#idk how to render and this is like my second attempt at this and used roy as a practice lol

[cosmic-meteorites]

Guess what i watched

[mysumeow]

warnings: afab genitalia, gn pronouns. lyney's a switch here.

drabble

a/n: i expanded from this idea i had yesterday about lyney deliberately hiding his cat ears and tail. i know theres a more reasonable explanation, maybe lynette and lyney are half siblings or someting idk. but for now, its free real estate. also, the pending drafts i have since may are side eyeing me.

To render the flirty and chatty magician Lyney speechless is a sight few people get to see.

And there he was, on his back, on the floor, with you straddling his hips, as your attempt at avoiding his fall was futile.

"I didn’t expect you to take me up on my offer," he was referring to, mere seconds ago, when you asked what flavor his chapstick was, and he playfully answered, 'why don’t you try it yourself’ as he licked his lips with a sultry look in his eyes. "My, aren’t you a brave one,"

However, you were more perplexed by something else. To be precise, the cat ears that sprouted from his head.

He noticed your prolonged stare at somewhere else other than his eyes, to which he inquired: "What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

"I didn’t know you had cat ears," you observed and helped him stand up.

A shiver ran down his body when your fingers made contact with his sensitive ears. His face grew warmer the longer you stroked them.

He felt himself harden at your attention and, bashfully, tried to divert it somewhere else by changing the conversation.

"Why do you hide them?" you weren’t having any of that. "You look cute,"

"For the sake of the performance, of course. One cat person on stage is interesting enough, but having two of the same makes it less special. That’s how I see it, at least."

Even though you had a different opinion on his take, you didn’t budge on it.

"You appear to be oddly into this aspect of my physique. Had I known sooner, I would’ve shown them to—" he cut himself off before a whine escaped his mouth at the sensation of you stroking his tail with feather-like touches. "S-Stop that, ah—!" you blew air onto his ear, as you pressed your palm on the obvious stiffness concealed under his clothes.

Even though he did want you to go on, he wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of being teased and played with. This was quite new to him.

"If we’re going to do something, we must hurry up, yes? I have a performance in about half an hour."

"I can work with that, seeing as having your cute tail and ears caressed enhances your arousal," you noted with the same teasing tone he usually used on you when the roles were reversed. You kissed his cheek and moved back up again to kiss his ear too. "Ooh, I wonder what would happen if I did this," you sang playfully, and your free hand rubbed the tip of his other ear.

Despite his efforts to cover his sounds and control his squirming, every now and then he would jolt whenever you found a weak spot.

"You sure know how to keep people’s eyes on you," you slipped a finger under the harness on his thigh and pulled it. The harness wasn’t skin-tight, so when you released the material, it didn’t deliver the snapping sound you were looking forward to.

You were having fun, and so was he. Regardless, the need to regain his control grew stronger, and he grabbed your wrist to lead you to sit on his lap.

"And with minimum effort, so do you. I hope you had fun riling me up," he said as he slid his hand under your clothes, gloved fingers coming into contact with your dripping arousal. "My cat-like attributes may place me in a vulnerable state, but I also know your weak spots,"

[stonesilhouette]

Affections of an Apparition

Yandere Ghost England x GN. Reader

TW: Yandere Behavior | Character Death | England tries to kill (Y/n) more than a few times but then he becomes a simp | Magical Kidnapping | Imprisonment | Magical Induced Forgetting | idk if I forgor something

Uhhhhh I wrote this in literally a day, I don't want to talk about it okay :(

(There is technically one use of the world 'she' by another character but I'm pretty sure that's it. This was originally fem. reader and I don't want it to differ from my other publications so I'm gonna leave it)

Word Count: 5916

Perhaps you should have thought a little harder and dug a little deeper inside of yourself when deciding to buy a haunted house… But it was just so cheap!

Sure the shutters creaked during the frequent storms like a man in unpeaceful rest and the wind howled past the house, desperate to invade, but the view was beautiful… When it wasn’t completely enshrouded by a heavy mist so thick that you could get lost and find yourself in another realm altogether. But inside!... wasn’t much better; with winding corridors that created an inescapable maze and sharp corners filled with shadows. Every eave and crevice hid strange noises and eyes; some days you could swear that you heard the whisperings of a man rush by your ear, stiffening your hair to stand on end. You never found any evidence of rodents or even spiders, only a thin layer of dust that blanketed the entirety of the house.

Though there had been an attempt to add electricity to the estate, power surges and complete blackouts rendered it useless. All wiring would alight until it was charred and unusable and bulbs burnt out within days. Things often overloaded and it was a gamble whether or not the outlet you were using would choose to spark. There was a backup generator but it was in worse condition than the wiring and often didn’t work.

That meant that on nights like tonight, where the storm had knocked out your power –again– you had to rely on candles lit around the large manor. You were half sure that you contributed to most of the candle market in the small town.

The ancient Victorian home had belonged to an old noble family whose only surviving member had been assassinated. It had floated through many hands over the years, including yours. The house overlooked the nearby town, of course, that depended upon if the fog would break. The town itself was small and quaint, only a few hundred people and a few large families. Gossip spread fast and you did your best to click with the ‘in’ group. When your wi-fi wasn’t feeling spotty, you often texted with a few local people. They were in their twenties like you and were positively bored of the small amount of people that their hometown had to offer.

It was from them that you learned that the townspeople wholeheartedly believed that the restless spirit of the old manor lord haunted his home with a vengeance. At first you took it as a small town’s superstitions, nothing more than a fantasy or a spiraled rumor. You had lived there for about nine months but it was starting to get ridiculous.

Can you punch a ghost? Because if you can, you were totally going to. All you wanted was toast and tea. You were drinking tea because the ghost absolutely abhorred coffee and would spill your coffee grounds all over the hardwood floor. It didn’t matter where you put it or how tightly you secured it. Every morning you would come downstairs and find the brown powder spilled all over the floor like a crackhead had rifled through your cabinets. You thought, at first, that it might be the brand of coffee. But no, alas, it was the coffee itself. So you were now a tea drinker. Thanks, ghost.

Anyway back to the current toast issue. You had jumped back a split second before the sparks from the outlet would have reached your skin. Eyes blown wide, you could feel your entire body shaking. A second longer and you could have been dealing with multiple-degree burns. Unconsciously, you rubbed your bare arms over where the injury would have been. Suddenly the lights went out, encasing you in total darkness, save for the low silver light filtering through the windows, bathing what it touched in a blue tone.

You and this stupid ghost were going to have to have a chat.

Stomping angrily down the long hallway, you did your best not to huff the dust you were kicking up. You passed by countless amounts of old Victorian furniture, all in the same place they had been since being placed there over a hundred years ago. It was entirely in vain to try to move the furniture as any time you or any other previous owners had tried, you would just find it straight back in its spot the next morning. Save for the times that pieces would be moved just slightly so you would run into them or stub your toe.

A large portrait caught your eye even through your mad march. It was a painting of the lord of the house. Your current tormentor: Lord Arthur Kirkland. His toxic emerald eyes burrowed into your soul, curling inside and freezing you from the inside out. His shaggy blond hair framed his face, carved into a permanent scowl. Above his eyes lay two thick eyebrows. Oh great, the bane of your existence had caterpillars for eyebrows. He was wearing the ruffles and coats of the period but the tightness of the clothing had you gasping for air just looking at it.

Wait… Nothing filled your lungs when you tried to inhale. Fear struck itself across your face and you thrashed violently, scratching at the air in a desperate attempt to remove the block to your airflow. Finally, like sweet nectar, air rushed into your body and you collapsed to your knees. Tears had formed in the corner of your eyes and a single droplet fell down your soft cheek. Your face erected a scowl of your own as a strand of hair fell down in front. Okay, ghost. Now this was personal.

If this assholic spirit wanted to make your life a living hell, then you’d make its death a living hell.

“Oh it is on.” The fight had begun.

Clearly, he had a very strong hate for any change being done to his home. The constant destruction of cables and any other foreign objects made this clear. So you thought about it. What would a Victorian ghost hate more than anything to have in its house? Most of the decoration was already intricate and ornate to a slightly tacky degree. Then it hit you.

Grabbing your car keys, though quickly stopping to get dressed, you raced out the door towards the only home improvement and building store in town. It was run by a local family, as most things in town were, and you happened to be friends with the oldest son. Dashing through the front door, the brunet looked up at the sound of a jingle. He smiled and stepped out from behind the counter.

“Hey (Y/n),” he said, waving as you bounded over. “What brings you here?”

“Revenge,” you answered simply, stretching the upper half of your body to look at the wallpapers set up past him.

“Against who?” he asked, clearly not sure if he wanted to know.

“The ghost,” you responded, bouncing over to the racks of paper. “He tried to kill me and so I’m going to ruin his precious house.”

“He what!?” Ben’s face dropped. He spun you around and grabbed you tightly by the shoulders. “(Y/n) you can’t stay there anymore. If he’s actually trying to kill you…”

“Sure I can,” you reassured him, prying his arms off and patting him on the shoulder. “I’ve got it all figured out.”

He sighed, exasperated. “(Y/n) you can’t win this fight with house decor. Also if he’s hurting you...”

You ignored him and continued your perusing. “I’m hearing a lot of can’t and not a lot of can and that’s just not a growth mindset my dear Ben.”

“(Y/n) you are dealing with an angry and vengeful ghost who has now expressed interest in murdering you.” You felt the texture of an especially pink wallpaper between your thumb and index finger. “(Y/n) don’t ignore me.”

You sighed, turning back to look at the man. “If you’re really that worried” –he rapidly nodded his head like a dog– “then I guess you could come with me to put the wallpaper up.”

After a few moments of contemplation, he spoke in a defeated tone, “I’m not going to talk you out of this, am I?”

“Nope.”

You opened one of the double doors in a wide, exaggerated movement and it skidded into position with a thud. Humming, you trotted inside with Ben a few paces behind you carrying the roll of wallpaper and the bucket… and the brushes and everything else needed for this little makeover. The door slammed shut loudly after the two of you had reached the inside with no input from either of you. Though you were unbothered, Ben jumped and stood petrified like a deer for a moment. His eyes were wide but he reluctantly took another step, then another, then another and then quickly followed after you.

Hopping up the wide grand stairs, you watched as Ben struggled up the twin staircase with all of the materials. Once he reached the top, you were waiting for him and grabbed a singular paint brush daintily and then scampered into a large room.

Ben’s honey eyes went wide as he took in the grandeur of the room. The ceiling was inlaid with swirls of gold depicting handcrafted patterns that framed a large crystal chandelier. Heavy curtains hung above the imposing windows, filtering the little light that came through. Similar gold patterns continued on the wall, outlining the four walls bathed in a shade of dark, luxurious blue. That was a good word to describe the room: luxurious.

“Do you– Do you sleep in here?” Ben asked, astounded.

“Nah. I think it’s the ghost’s room and I’ve already had enough of him.”

“Then why are we doing it in here?!” You just gave him a smug look. “Right. Revenge.”

You snapped your fingers, having remembered something. “I forgot the glitter!” you exclaimed, leaping over towards the door. “I’ll be right back. Don’t have too much fun lovebirds!”

Snickering at your own teasing, you quickly hiked down the stairs and out towards your car. Left behind, Ben twiddled his thumbs, too nervous to sit down on anything for fear of offending the ghost. He chuckled nervously and swayed from one foot to the other. There was something in the room, he could feel it.

“So…” He paused, unsure of what to say. “That’s (Y/n) for you. Always running around with no sense of self-preservation.” He sighed, this wasn’t making him feel any better. “She’s like a little gremlin sometimes… an adorable little gremlin.”

You burst into the room, shouting at him, “Ben, I’m back!” He froze with fear for a second and you waved your hand in front of his face as he blue-screened. You spoke with a wispy and falsely ethereal voice, “Earth to Ben. We have revenge to do. And lunch. Definitely lunch.”

Once you got your things set up and prepared, you started to work right away. You made Ben take the high spots. He was like 6 '3, it would be a waste to have yourself do it. Standing back, you took a moment to admire your half-finished handiwork. It would be so ugly when finished. It was perfect.

“I don’t suppose I’m getting paid for this?” Ben asked, and you looked towards him.

You looked back at your masterpiece. “No.”

There it was. A full room covered entirely in four different wallpapers. On one wall, the first contender: leopard print. On the second: pink flamingos with googly eyes. On the third: something that could only be described as Picasso meets impressionism. And the fourth and final contender, the most ugly of all: banana leaf print that doesn’t match any of the other decorations in the room. Not to mention they’re all covered with glitter so no matter how much the ghost cleans, he’s never getting rid of the memory.

You snickered evilly in the background, rubbing your hands together like an old-timey villain. Suddenly, you snapped back to normal.

“You wanna get lunch?"

The two of you sat at a table outside, happily basking in the sunlight. Behind you was the dumbass manor you owned. It was surrounded by fog and looked cartoonishly evil. You were starting to understand why the townspeople disliked it so much. It interrupted the view.

“So–” You took a moment to ravenously take a bite and swallow it. “Why did your parents stock that hideous wallpaper anyway?”

“For people like you, (Y/n). People like you.”

Because you felt bad, only a little, you decided to pay for lunch. Ben still tried to insist upon paying but every time he got close to the check, you would swat his hand away. He drove you back up to your house and the two of you ended up sitting on a porch swing. It wasn’t original to the house but it was one of the only additions the ghost seemed to approve of.

“You know,” you started, swinging the bench. Ben lifted his legs up so it could move. “I think I figured out the ghost’s problem.”

“Really?” Ben questioned, humoring you. “What is it?”

“Well, he never got married, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Given the time period, that probably means he never… you know, too.”

“(Y/n), really?” Ben face-palmed.

You argued back with impassioned earnestness, “No, no, no, no. Hear me out on this. He’s like all mad and angry and stuff because he’s a bitch loser virgin boy.”

Something cracked in the background.

Ben tried his best to stifle his laughter and push down the smile threatening to stretch itself across his face. “I’m– pfft– pretty sure that the ghost– pfft– is not upset because he’s a–” He stopped for a moment to center himself. “–a ‘bitch loser virgin boy.’” He airquoted your words and you harrumphed, crossing your arms.

“Fine. What do you think then?”

He blinked at you, almost as if asking ‘are you serious?’ “He got murdered, (Y/n). My guess would probably be that.”

“Orrrr.” You dragged out your ‘r.’ “Maybe we’re both right.”

Ben sighed, agreeing with you if not to just end the conversation before the ghost decided to kill you both. You waved him off about a half hour later and headed back inside. Though you wanted to check in on your ‘artwork,’ you didn’t really want to run directly into the spirit again.

Walking through the manor, you found yourself in front of another portrait of the man. He looked as judgemental as ever, his lime green eyes piercing even as an inanimate photo. You don’t know why you talked to it, or even why you stopped. But you did.

“You know…” you started, hugging yourself tight. “For a bitch loser virgin boy” –A ghastly hand illuminated in a cold blue glow stretched out for your neck– “You’re actually pretty cute.”

The hand froze in place. You blew a strand of hair out of your face, readjusting to take another look at the portrait.

“And for how ridiculous that clothing is, you kind of pull it off.” The hand backed away, the light dimming. “I know I keep making fun of your house but I wouldn’t have bought it if I thought it was ugly.” It was barely visible at all now. “I mean, sunshine and a working heater beyond a centuries-old fireplace might be nice but otherwise it’s actually a very nice home.”

You blinked up at the portrait. Somehow, the expression the lord was wearing seemed softer now. There was less disdain and more of a quiet loathing on his face. Nothing could fix those caterpillar eyebrows though.

“The coffee thing was annoying but I guess I’m healthier now because of it. I was really tired that first week though. Anyway…” you trailed off. “Thanks, I guess.” You sighed at what you thought was only yourself. “What am I doing? I should… take a nap.”

Soft breathing filled the room; it was utterly quiet besides the faint sound. Your face contorted into uncomfortable expressions from the rapidly dropping temperature and you curled into the heavy blankets of the large bed. Only your head remained above the covers, the rest below like a figure bobbing in the waves on the open sea. The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, a low orange light just barely slipping through the mist. The copper colored light spread across the wooden floor and stopped at the edge of glowing, blue feet, creating a soft purple.

They stepped out of the light and into the shadow, the illumination of the azure color growing brighter with each passing step. A face appeared from the foot of the bed, slowly coming into view. Unkempt hair cut in every direction floated lightly, encapsulating the face of Arthur Kirkland, last lord of the Kirkland manor. He watched with calculating yet curious eyes, looking for any sign of guilt or deceptiveness. He found none.

Though the man walked to your side, it would better be described as gliding. The tailcoat pieces of his jacket hovered to the same slow rhythm as the rest of the loose articles on his body. He brought a gloved hand to your face, lightly brushing his fingers across your cheek. Your face contorted from the biting cold and he quickly drew his hand back.

A low thought crossed his mind. If he hovered his lips above yours, could he suck the warmth and life out of you? To make you like him? Arthur stopped himself. Those were improper thoughts. No matter the time period, he shouldn’t think that way, especially of a lady he was not in courtship with.

Still… No!

He suddenly faded out of existence, his presence slipping out of the crevices and with it, the freezing cold. The warmth had returned to the room and in response, you had pulled the covers back down to adjust to the temperature change. Thank goodness he left when he did, you were wearing a tank top. Shoulders, scandalous!

Ben called you the next day, worried about what might have befallen you and your tricks.

“So, is it still there?” he asked, voice scratchy over the phone.

“No. He took it down.” 

Ben sighed. “All that work for nothing.”

“Not nothing,” you said, sitting comfortably on the couch. “I think we finally called a truce.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. I guess I’m just too wonderful to hate.”

“Who are you talking to?” A third voice interjected.

“Oh I’m talking to Be–”

You dropped the phone.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n) are you there? (Y/–”

You weren’t listening, instead, you had slowly turned behind you, eyes wide as saucers and body as stiff as a board. There, in glowing blue glory, was the man from the paintings, bushy eyebrows and all. Blinking a few times, you kept expecting the visage to disappear every time you opened your eyes again. But he never did.

“Well don’t look so shocked now, love,” he huffed, crossing his arms and carrying that signature scowl.

“I– I– I–” It was your turn to bluescreen and the ghost rolled his green eyes, tapping his arm impatiently.

“I say, with how chuffed you were over that last stunt, I’d thought you’d have more to say than that,” he insulted, drifting through the couch and watching as you astonishedly followed him.

“(Y/n)?! (Y/n)?!” Ben implored through the phone.

“Oh, I recognize that voice,” Arthur answered his own question. “You can continue on with your nonsense conversation later.”

With a wave of his cerulean hand, you watched in horror as your phone short-circuited, sparked and then burst into flames. It was the threat of fire that knocked you out of your stupor and you quickly ran to the kitchen to grab the nearest fire extinguisher. The white foam drowned your phone but also safely put out the fire. You dug through the froth to find the piece of metal and silicon, uncaring for whether or not it got on you.

As soon as you got it, you dropped it again, the heat from the searing flames had left the metal as hot as if it had been outside on a summer’s day. The ghost seemed oblivious to your plight and as you shook your hands off, he waved one of his own and the floor returned to how it had been before. He looked towards you, cradling your steaming phone with a pair of oven mitts you had grabbed. You felt like crying and clearly the blond could tell.

“Oh don’t cry over spilled milk. You can just get another one.”

No. He was wrong. You couldn’t just get another one. Sure you could get another phone but you hadn’t backed up any of your pictures or videos or documents and there was no way in hell you possibly remembered all of those contacts. From the sorry state the melted rectangle was in, you could pretty much guess that the SIM card would be unsavable. Years worth of memories; gone.

The spirit looked down at you in slight curiosity; you weren’t usually this quiet. He watched as you silently stood up, solemnly placed the phone into the sink, removed and put away the mitts, and then quietly walked up the stairs and back to your claimed room.

You didn’t come back out for dinner. Or for breakfast the next morning. He hadn’t even blown out a fuse this time. By lunchtime, he could feel himself starting to get worried. Well not worried, because he couldn’t possibly be worried about you but simply concerned what your mental state might mean for the physical state of his house. You had lasted the longest out of his tenants because that's all you were: tenants. You didn’t own the house after all, he did. And he was quite sick of people thinking otherwise.

Suppertime rolled around and he still hadn’t seen you. Usually, you’d be trying to figure out how to make the microwave not explode or trying to watch the ‘television’ while you ate. He always knocked out the power when you did that. Dinner should be eaten at the table. He looked towards the kitchen. The one you had chosen as your primary was a servant’s kitchen and so was relatively smaller. It happened to house one of the few things he allowed to work in his house: the refrigerator. Even he could see the usefulness of such an advancement.

Arthur impatiently tapped his foot, it was now eight p.m. and this was around the time you liked to watch a movie or a television show. He didn’t enjoy having the loud television in his home but the drawing room you had chosen for it was far enough from the main foyer. Besides, sometimes you watched this ‘Dr Who’ story and he quite liked those nights. 

There was no one present to change the candles and it's not like the lights were in working condition so Arthur sat in darkness. He forgot how empty this felt. At nine, someone knocked on the door. He –invisible– watched as you slowly trudged down the stairs. You were wearing the same clothes as when he had last seen you and your hair was a mess. There were bags under your eyes but it was the kind from sleeping too much. You pulled open the door and looked up at Ben. The concerned look on his face became even worse as he watched you blink out of sync.

“(Y/n), are you okay?” he asked frantically, pulling you into a hug.

The front porch light flickered in and out.

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling the empty lightness of your stomach now that you were awake. Ben pulled apart from you, grabbing your face to look into your eyes. He rubbed his thumb over your eyebags and pulled you inside, uncaring for the ghostly apparition. After placing you on the couch and throwing a blanket over you, Ben ran to the kitchen to find some kind of food. His eye was temporarily caught on the burnt sockets all over the room but refocused on his mission. Though he wanted to make you something, he’d heard tales of the terror of the appliances in this place. Instead, he rifled through your cabinets and eventually just brought you a bag of marshmallows. He watched as you slowly chewed on the sugary fluff, stopping to take a sip out of the iced tea he brought you.

“What happened?” he finally asked, scooting closer. “I heard a voice and then you cut out.”

Instead of speaking properly, you pointed to the kitchen and mumbled out, “Sink.” 

Then you continued to gnaw on a marshmallow. Ben walked over, took a look inside the sink, stared with wide eyes for a moment, and then walked back to sit beside you again. The two of you stared ahead, not saying a word.

“Ghost did that?”

“... yeah”

“(Y/n) I think you should come live with me.”

You looked up at him with tired eyes.

“I–I mean.” He sighed. “I just really don’t think it’s safe for you here. And besides” –His cheeks were alight with a pink glow– “Would staying with me be so bad?”

A picture frame crashed down from the wall. 

Your heads snapped toward it and Ben pulled you closer unconsciously.

“I… I think you’re right,” you agreed with him, standing up to pack your things.

“I told you; this house is a lost cause,” Ben said, moving to help you.

The crystal chandelier high above glinted threateningly.

The two of you walked close together and as you walked under the hanging tree of diamonds, the strange shaking suddenly stopped. You didn’t take much so it didn’t take very long to pack. You insisted that you would be back after you gave the ghost time to ‘cool off’ but Ben seemed hesitant. The door closed with a creak and with it, the light.

From the shadows glowed a brilliant blue, forming into a humanoid shape. There, in all of his ghastly glory was Lord Arthur Kirkland. Alone again. A window cracked and he fixed it using magic with little thought.

As soon as you were gone the lord sank down. Past the servant’s quarters, past the locked doors and into the passageway that not even any of the other supposed ‘owners’ of the house had the key to. That’s because this door didn’t unlock with a key. Whisperings of Latin slipped out of his mouth and the runes in the door glowed and spun, turning until they clicked into place and the door slowly opened.

His magic may not have been as strong as it had been when he was alive but that didn’t mean that he didn’t still have deep and rooted connections to the ley lines that had been passed down through his family heritage. Books and papers flew open and danced around the room as he rushed through. He searched through ancient tomes until he found a heavy book covered in a thick layer of dust. His ghostly breath blew the grime away, revealing a brilliant ruby-red cover.

Arthur had never seen the point to attempt this before but now you had given him a reason. He was going to perform a resurrection spell.

On himself.

You couldn’t say that you hated the last couple of days. It was nice to be able to use modern appliances without the fear of them blowing up on you. Ben had taken time off of work to take care of you and you could feel the guilt piling up. You didn’t deserve him. Not to mention you were pulling possible profits away from his family’s store. They just gave you cheeky grins before poking and teasing you about a wedding. Small towns are just like that.

After literal hours of begging, Ben finally agreed to let you work with him in the shop. It allowed him to keep an eye on you and for you to feel less bad. Many of your friends stopped by and they were almost as bad as Ben’s family. It was still far more relaxing and less stressful than fearing that your phone charger would suddenly spark and electrocute you. You hadn’t gotten a new phone yet. You knew you needed one but it wasn’t exactly on the top of your priority list.

At the end of the week, you had been reorganized and shelving a collection of nails. Your ‘shift’ was almost over, which meant that Ben’s shift was almost over and you were positively buzzing with excitement for movie night. The bell jingled and you leaned over to shout ‘coming’ before shoving the last box of nails in and racing over.

Putting on your best customer service face, you spoke to the person who had come in, “Hi! Welcome in! What are you looking for–”

You stopped. Standing right there. In front of you. In the flesh was Arthur Kirkland. It couldn’t have been him, but it was. Who else would have that shaggy blond hair? Those horribly maintained eyebrows? Those piercing green eyes? You stuttered and buffered and the man just smiled amusedly at your short-circuiting.

“Why I’m looking for you of course,” he answered, taking a step forward.

You took a step backward. “You– you’re– you’re alive…” you gasped out, staring at him, completely stunned.

He wasn’t wearing the period clothing anymore, though what he was wearing still looked quite old. Instead, he had on just a dress shirt, black pants and similarly black shoes. When he grasped his hand around your wrist, you visibly shuddered from the cold but could not break free. You were locked in a staring match until Ben came to find you.

“Hey (Y/n)–” He froze.

“Oh good. I was looking for your dimwitted friend too,” he admitted, pulling you closer.

“Are you–” Ben stopped, looking on in disbelief.

“Goodness, you peasant people are just as slow as a hundred years ago,” Arthur huffed, rolling his emerald eyes.

Somehow, the next time you blinked you were back in the manor house. Ben was there too but he was knocked out and you couldn’t move to reach him. Arthur looked towards you, somewhat surprised to see you awake.

‘I guess my magic is still weak. It won’t matter after this,’ he thought, walking towards you.

More than anything, you wanted to struggle, you wanted to cry, you wanted to scream. But all you could do was watch. The blond snapped his fingers and you unfroze, becoming limp. Your limbs were still useless and Arthur seemed well aware of this as he carried you up the stairs. The two of you went past many rooms, including your own until you reached the site of your former masterpiece.

The door swung open and he waltzed in. The deep blue walls had returned to their normal extravagantness and there wasn’t a speck of glitter in sight. He gingerly placed you down on his bed, the soft mattress bending to your weight. You could do nothing but have your eyes reflect terror as the man manually tied your limbs to the bed. Finally, he placed a soft gag in your mouth and with it, you could feel the strange enchantment break. It wasn’t like your struggling could do anything anymore.

“Sorry, love.” He placed a kiss on your forehead and ran a hand through your loose hair. “I’ll need all the power I can get, so I can’t be expending it here.”

He walked away from your struggling form and quietly closed the door. None of your screams would make it through the walls of that room anyway. Arthur regally walked down the stairs to find his other captive missing. Instead of searching, he chose to stand completely still, hands crossed behind his back.

From the shadows, snuck a disoriented Ben, carrying the only chair he could lift. He smashed it into Arthur’s head, the impact shattering the wooden chair. The brunet expected to see blood and bits of gore. Instead, he came face to face with glowing green eyes, full of rage and jealousy. His jaw was slacked the wrong way but a simple movement clicked it back into place.

Ben dropped the remaining chair legs he had been holding onto and began to back up like a frightened deer. Arthur followed, slinking after him like the apex predator he was.

“You see,” Arthur started, stepping closer. “I’m not exactly alive per se. At least not yet. I’m on borrowed time, unfortunately.” He cornered the man. “Lucky for me, so are you.”

The next time you saw Arthur he looked different. He looked alive. His chest moved up and down, he blinked at regular intervals and you could see blood flushing through his body. Most of all, he was warm. So comfortingly warm.

Eventually, those thoughts faded and you laughed internally at ever thinking that Arthur could have been dead. He looked like a distant relative who had once owned the manor and shared a name. But he wasn’t. He was a different Arthur Kirkland, one who had come from London to learn that he should have been entitled to the estate. That’s when he found you, the person who had recently bought the house. That’s when you fell in love and… there’s something you feel like you’re forgetting.

There was always someone you felt like you were forgetting. No one in the town knew either so you had always assumed it to be a bad dream that stayed with you. Arthur had always encouraged you to forget and move on, but it always stuck with you.

Arthur had helped you properly install appliances and electricity in the house that wouldn't almost kill you and/or burn down the house. Well, he hired someone to make that happen but it was close enough. It always felt so nice to be able to flip a light switch and watch the room light up in a comforting yellow glow, though there were some days where the blond man did insist upon candles. You didn’t know why you flinched when the lights flickered or when the fire on the stove got too hot but Arthur was always just around the corner to watch you. He seemed to enjoy doing that.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the sounds of his heartbeat and feeling the movement of his chest. The constant fog that surrounded the manor finally dissipated and the two of you were peacefully watching the sunset on the porch swing. Arthur was rocking the bench lightly and the gentle swaying movement threatened to put you to sleep.

“Don’t fall asleep now on me, love,” he laughed lightly, lifting your head to look at him.

Grumbles came out of your mouth instead of words and you burrowed yourself back into his warm chest. He just shook his head and looked towards the fading light.

“Do you still think I’m a ‘bitch loser virgin boy?’” he asked in a teasing tone, running his hand through your hair.

Stretching, you readjusted yourself to situate your head higher, closer to his shoulder. He took in a deep breath, smelling the (smell) shampoo you had used. After yawning, you gave him an answer.

“Hmm... Yes,” you answered tauntingly, closing your eyes again.

He chuckled, continuing his brushing motions through your hair. “Not for very long, love. Not for very long.”

[moonsun2010]

I'm mad Tumblr ate my anon asks (it's not appearing in my Drafts????) but luckily I have a copy saved to my email so:

HEY YOUR DRACULA ANIMATIC IS SO SO GOOD I can't comment on youtube (bc I have no account) but I've watched it like 10 times now, the song fits so well and the art is incredible, I love all your character designs and the way you portray all the scenes is so spot on!

I just finished re: dracula and idk how you managed to tell the whole story so well in under 4 minutes but it was amazing I love the way you use color in the animatic, the use of mostly black/white/grey is so good for evoking the specific type of horror story this is, and it makes the red in the blood and in dracula's eyes stick out in a way that is absolutely brilliant and that last shot with the sunset is GORGEOUS and then the epilogue!!! I love that you did the epilogue to and having the gentle piano music and doing it in full color gives it such a peaceful and comforting feeling, the drawing of quincey and lucy in it in the afterlife together is so sweet <3 the detail that went into this is amazing, like the captain of the demeter having the rosary even though we only see it for a second, I keep wanting to pause on every single frame so I can properly admire all the cool art lol, also the things like jonathan's beard growing out after dracula breaks the mirror, and the rosary hanging above his bed, and dracula still having the scar from the shovel in the final showdown

AND THE PART WHERE DRACULA CATCHES THE LETTER... literally the way you tell the whole story with (almost) NO WORDS in not even 4 minutes and the whole thing flows so smoothly is incredible I love the way you do like the zoom out thing on some places, it adds a whole new dimension to it visually also the way you draw mina and jonathan after the october 3rd bit is lovely, your jonathan looks so cool with the white hair and i love how you did mina's scar, and the part where her scar disappears at the end was such a cool way to depict that and the difference between human lucy and vampire lucy is done so well, like it's so clearly the same character but you can really see how she's not herself anymore, and the way you used that when they kill vampire lucy and show arthur's resolve to use the stake bc he's now seeing her as a monster who replaced and essentially killed the woman he loved and he wants revenge, literally I will never be over how much story and emotion you managed to fit into a single music video and the way you did quincey's death? crying at that part tbh.

AND THE FRAME OF DRACULA GETTING BEHEADED WITH THE RED BACKGROUND.... IS JUST *chef's kiss* I was going to say I have no words for how much I love this but clearly I have quite a lot of words lol, thank you tumblr for not having a character limit anyway have a good day/night :)

Anon I'm so sorry for this delayed reply,,, I kept rereading this in awe and didn't want to release it into the wild (and it still got eaten anyways-)

I'm so glad you enjoyed the character design!! It's not my strong suit at all so that's reassuring. The colour scheme lowkey started out as a timesaving measure, but it also allowed for me to render scenes with detail that I otherwise couldn't've with the tight time frame I had, since at the time I was also juggling university assignments. I'm glad the sunset scene hit as hard as it did, since I had also just discovered Disco Elys/ium, so it was an attempt to emulate Rostov's illustration of Harry on Filippe III's statue). It worked out in the end anyways, since the grayscale + red accent combined with a colourful epilogue gave a "the horror is now in the past, and we are in a (literally visually) livelier future)" <3

I've seen so many people say they want to pause on each frame to examine it in detail, and guess what, you can get a zip file of them all as watermarkless pngs in my kofi! For free! It's pay-what-you-want since I just really wanted to get as many eyes on this as possible, but any tips would definitely still be appreciated.

It was fun mapping out the match cuts and transitions e.g Dracula catching the letter, Mina and Dracula with Lucy in the churchyard, since the previous semester I'd taken a storyboarding class that taught that, so I HAD to include it. Zoom outs helped add visual interest to otherwise still shots, so I'm glad they didn't come off as overdone haha.

It was tough mapping out what storybeats to include, but I'm super happy that the angst for all the key moments in the video hit right :D Was worried about losing momentum after leaving the Jonathan in Dracula's castle bit, and so I really wanted the ending of each verse(?) to correspond with a red screen injury— notice that "you'd better let yourself off and, while you still have strength in your legs, escape from this horrible hell/你最好放过自己 趁双脚还有力气, 快逃出这可怕地狱" always ends with some character harming another, and when the verse repeats again but with the ending lyrics changed "you’d better let yourself off, rather than crying out to another, “Save me!”... Save me!/你最好放过自己 胜过跟谁叫救命... 救命!", it still ends with Van Helsing staking the 3 vampire women. And of course, the ending "escape from this horrible hell/快逃出这可怕地狱" ends with the sunset, its red now replacing that of the blood the characters had to spill previously, signalling an end to their necessary monstrosity (and also a literal monster with Dracula dying).

Like with the frame of Dracula getting beheaded, the timesaving measures, limited skills (plus lack of any sort of storyboarding software, I was just ""animating"" the movements with Shotcut) forced me to find creative workarounds. I could fill at least 3 pages with writing dissecting all my choices lol but idt therell be much interest in me analysing my own art. Thank you so much for watching my animatic :)

[tanejineri]

recently picked up painttool sai

first drawing is an attempt of doing a classic look, like how people would have rendered at the time of release. inspiration? that one mlp insanity speedpaint i guess idk

second drawing is my actual style obviously, more of an artsy actual paint approach. it looks like how i used to render in freshman year lol

painttool sai is genuinely such a fun and simple art program. it's only 35$ for a single license and it's very much so something i recommend in comparison to photoshop

[cringefailvox]

Personally, for Hazbin Hotel, I'm dying to know more about the angelic hierarchy. I know bible lore well enough to know that they're hiding something:

Sera says that she's the highest ranking angel, directly below the Metatron. Except she's a seraph. There should be an angelic rank between them that doesn't quite translate into English. I want to find out where Michael (canonically the highest ranking angel and archenemy of the Devil) and the other Princes of Heaven went lmao. The rank for them in Hebrew is "sārīm" but I think Christianity just uses 'Archangels' with a capital A to differentiate from typical low ranking archangels.

MAYBE they cameo'd? I'm assuming they're the six Tall Imposing Angels we see looking down on Lucifer and sentencing him during 'More Than Anything'. And the New Testament specifically refers to Michael as being the one to cast him out of Heaven. There are seven Princes in total and, hey, adding Samael/Lucifer to those Six Tall Imposing Angels would make that number work! Plus Paradise Lost claims that he was a Prince before Falling.

i'll be honest, i know comparatively little about christian angelology or mysticism, so i can't weigh on this very much. i will say though that in judaism, there's no formal angelic hierarchy until maimonides, a middle ages torah scholar that derived ten angelic ranks from a variety of biblical verses, but it doesn't translate 1:1 to any christian interpretations of those same texts since jews discount the new testament and apocrypha. sarim in hebrew can be rendered as princes, extremely vaguely, but it more accurately translates to ministers or chiefs, denoting leadership in general rather than any specific royal status. it also only refers to angels in the book of enoch, which is a very controversial text to say the least and not considered to be scriptural canon in any religion but the ethiopian & eritrean orthodox churches, so i'm not sure how relevant it'll be with hazbin specifically

also, seraphim are considered the highest ranking angels in traditional catholic angelology, there's no class higher than them. the archangel thing is weird in general too since the most influential christian angelic hierarchy, put forth by pseudo-dionysus the areopagite in the fifth century, lists them as second-to-lowest, yet most media places them at the top for some reason. idk! i truly have no idea where hazbin will go with any of this since we're already playing in a sandbox universe that's more like a subversive mishmash of paradise lost & dante's inferno rather than a loyal adaptation of christian canon, so i really doubt that any attempts to read angelic rankings into the lore of hellaverse will go anywhere useful

still an interesting idea though and there's a lot of fun ways to toy with these theories! my main point is that i personally don't think the actual show will engage very much with these concepts, or will only do so selectively, because that's not the kind of story hazbin seems interested in telling

[gebstargeb]

Art dump 👍(16 drawings, roughly chronological)

first/second digital drawing on PC! been using ibispaint since birth. I used to constantly be like "oh drawing on your phone isn't that hard it just takes practice!" like girl you're not gonna know that you're in hell if you were born there 😭

Art fight for ritterdoodles oc, Calaca, my favorite art fight from this year. First digital drawing in half a year, then immediately forgot how to do line art afterward and stopped drawing digitally for another half a year.

Steven at his desk, tried to replicate the shading from my art fight attack but… lord it's kinda ugly

trying rendering out on PC for the first time, eurgh

Sketch for a fake Daredevil comic cover? Looks like I'm the floor and he's about to death-drop on me

a sketch for a comic about daredevil being emo and being like “No… I only work alone...” Moon Knight and spider-man are there of course

Harvey from Stardew! My go-to spouse, going for Krobus in my current save though. Practice for a school club, I'm making pixel art for our game! large gap between this and the previous one

I like this drawing a lot and drew it specifically for Instagram, but I don't want to post it there because Peter B. looks pregnant. I NEED to practice drawing chubby people

Digital rendering attempt #2. mmph. its questionable. tried really hard on the composition too lol

steven and layla in their hero suits but they're also in dresses... muah... this was very hard to draw I do not know how to draw two people looking at each other without them looking flirty

spider miku comic book cover! drew it to try and relearn digital art! her webs are music notes! large gap between this and the pervious one

trying to reteach myself line art, halfway through I realized it kinda looks like that "all or nothing" Tumblr post and stopped in fear

large gap between this and the others. I was digitally lining a sketchbook spread and had to crunch out some lineart warmups because I was struggling so hard, idk why lineart is so stressful for me lol

this is gorgeous this made digital art click for me again I love layla shes so pretty shes my wife

realized if I wanna do lineart warmups I should do... just lineart... wow. I'm like plato.

tried to recreate the beauty of number two, not same vibe but still very pretty!!!

hmu for commissions 😘deviant art points only tho <//3

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Would the Tails Polycule like to dress as each other?

You know, this is a good question, so I'll do my best to answer! (Under the cut, though, cause it's sort of a lot)

ㅤ

Tails

Nine's clothes

Technically Prime!Tails is modern Tails, and since modern Tails has official art/renders of himself in different clothing, Prime!Tails has also likely worn other clothes outside of his usual clothes.

That's all to say that Prime!Tails to me is no stranger to shirts or pants. So while he doesn't wear full outfits often, I don't think he'd mind Nine's clothes. Honestly, I think (minor design differences aside) he would probably enjoy looking in the mirror thinking about how much like Nine he looks and seeing if he can fool anyone into believing he's Nine.

Also I...kind of like to imagine Tails wearing Nine's vest shirt thing whenever they sleep in the same place together. I think it'd annoy Nine a bit at first but like...boyfriend jacket situation 🥺👉👈

Sails' clothes

Sshshsb I can imagine Tails trying them on for the first time like "So this is what I would like as a pirate! Arrrgh". Essentially, I'd think he'd have fun with it, probably play pirate for a bit. Plus, since he and Sails look pretty similar, I think it would be funny if they trained each other in their own dialects to pull a switcheroo move for fun.

All in all, I think Tails would find some of the choices unnecessary or weird (at least for when he wears Sails' clothes), but I can see him keep the outfit in mind in the event he needs to dress up in a different outfit for some reason or needs inspiration for a pirate costume. Sails also has this weird sorta little jacket thing so...boyfriend jacket again👉👈

Hey, what can I say😂 I think Tails would be the type to wear a piece of clothing from someone he's really close to/is dating around his place because it feels nice and smells like them

Mangey's clothes

I think he'd try his clothes on once, but I don't think he'd love it as much. Ultimately, out of the three, Mangey has the least clothing it seems like, and anything that's not his gloves is made out of leaves of some sort. So I think Tails would enjoy analyzing his outfit so he could make himself clothes in some hypothetical event that may never happen where he ends up on a deserted island without clothes. Even though the details of clothes probably really don't matter to Mangey much as long as they get the job done, I can see Tails trying to convince Mangey to wear something else. However, I don't see Prime Tails as someone who'd be a clothes designer expert, and he'd be hard pressed to get Mangey to wear something else regularly. So I think after futile attempts, at best he'd just succeed in making Mangey's current outfit more durable and just try not to worry about it all anymore.

ㅤ

Nine

Tails' clothes

You are getting him to do this like. Twice at most, for two reasons.

First, early in the relationship I think Nine would still have hangups on his similarities to Tails, so wearing Tails' clothes and seeing how much he looks like him makes him feel...a number of things, most of which he doesn't like.

Second, idk, I think Nine would feel exposed without the clothes he usually wears. Part of this is due to how he grew up, of course. Nine wore his usual clothes in that brief backstory moment in Prime Episode 1, so while there's not necessarily a confirmation, it's not a big stretch to assume he grew up wearing full clothing. Plus, multiple others in New Yoke can be seeing wearing more clothing/accessories than just gloves or shoes if not full clothing (like New Yoke!Big). So I think he's sort of just used to wearing full clothing and feels weird about it. The other part of this is that I personally see him feeling a bit awkward if not weird about his body, so he's not really confident even doing something small like losing the shorts or his top. I also happen to like headcanoning Nine as transmasc, so (while that's no confirmation of anything for this au) do with that what you will

I think the only times this is happening if Nine is convinced to swap clothes with Tails/loses a dare or game and has to, and/or if someone gets him to agree to try swapping places with Tails to see if anyone's fooled by it. Only two times I can see it.

Sails' clothes

Like with Tails' clothes, I can see him just feeling weirdly exposed about it all. Since Sails' outfit has the most coverage out of the three, I think he wouldn't mind wearing Sails' outfit as much as the others and one would have an easier time convincing Nine to wear it. But he would still be uncomfortable about it (while finding some choices in the outfit unnecessary or weird the same way Tails does). I think he'd be more comfortable wearing Sails' outfit if he had pants/shorts to wear with it or an undershirt at least.

I think Nine is someone who could come to like the "boyfriend jacket" idea like Tails, but ultimately wouldn't be incredibly keen on this for any of the variants usual wear. If Sails had a sweater or coat or something then yeah, okay. You could catch him wearing it and taking in his boyfriend's scent. But the jacket thing from his usual wear? Not his favorite.

Mangey's clothes

At most you will get him to wear it exactly once (see the Tails' clothes section for more detail). That one time would just be because someone convinced him or because for some reason or another he has to try it on. There's barely more clothing than what Tails wears when it comes to Mangey's outfit, so I think Nine would feel pretty uncomfortable and exposed about it.

I can see him taking interest in how the clothes were made (like the shoes for example) and keeping it in mind like Tails would, but that's about it.

All in all, while Nine would find all three of the other's clothes to just be uncomfortable and also not really understand how they walk around like that, he ultimately leaves them to their own devices and doesn't care what they wear.

ㅤ

Sails

Tails' clothes

I think being without certain accessories he keeps on would be a bit weird for him, but I don't think he'd mind it too horribly much. While he prefers his own clothes, it's also definitely not a bad thing that one of his boyfriends has decent quality clothes he can wear if he ever needs an emergency outfit change I guess (of course that's assuming Sails wouldn't keep a change of his own gloves at least, but I digress).

If anything, since Tails' regular outfit doesn't consist of a lot, I think the most interest he'd have in dressing up like Tails would be to pull some switcheroos and see if he can convince certain people that he's Tails.

Nine's clothes

I think he'd definitely get some enjoyment out of pretending to act like Nine (whether that's teasing him some or seeing if he can convince others that he's Nine for fun). I don't think it would be his favorite outfit to wear (bit restricting feeling maybe) but he's not necessarily opposed to wearing it. Like Tails, though, I can see him stealing Nine's shirt vest thing. While Tails usually does it in the comforting safety of the home, I can see Sails being a bit more bold in wearing his boyfriend's "jacket" around outside the lab or inside a home. Like with Tails' situation, it would doubtless annoy Nine for a while (but not forever).

Mangey's clothes

I think compared to Nine and Tails he'd probably be the most comfortable in Mangey's outfit. I don't think it would be the most fun for him to dress up in, but I think it's an outfit he could handle wearing like for days on end for example. If Mangey made stuff like the shoes himself, I can see Sails complimenting him on his work and learning from it just in case he needs the knowledge.

ㅤ

Mangey

Tails' clothes

They're not that different from his usual wear in terms of how much clothing is there, but I think while you could get him in the clothes on occasion he doesn't really enjoy it. The gloves are one thing and I think the shoes are something he'd like looking at, but not to wear. He's the type of fox who wears the same kind of clothes all the time and is probably a bit picky.

But again since Tails' outfit isn't really restricting you could convince him to do it on occasion

Nine's clothes

Do not pass go do not collect $200

You may get him to dress like Nine once or twice and only for fun, but this fox does not love wearing a lot of clothing. I think wearing Nine's clothes it would feel weird in general, a bit restricting, and I can see it being a bit of a texture nightmare for him (even just with there being so much more than he usually wears).

However, I think he is someone who wouldn't mind wearing around Nine's shirt vest thing as a boyfriend jacket or like sleeping on a pile of his clothes. Mangey is not immune to the urge to smell like/breathe in that boyfriend smell.

Sails' clothes

I think he would be more comfortable than he is in Nine's clothes and find more enjoyment than he does with Tails' clothes. So I think on occasion you'd get him to fully dress up as Sails.

However, I think there are certain things (like how Mangey is with Tails' shoes) that he'd rather look at than wear. So more often than not I think he'd put on Sails' belt, bandana, or jacket thing whenever he wants to dress up like him or have the comfort of wearing his stuff. Like with Nine, I think he'd be known to steal the jacket thing sometimes (more than he does with Nine's shirt vest thing), or sleep with some of Sails' clothes/accessory items. He is not immune to deriving comfort from/pretending someone he cares about is with them by wearing or holding their stuff and breathing in their scent.

ㅤ

Thank you so much for the ask, anon! This one was a lot of fun to answer, as I enjoyed digging into my interpretations of these characters to answer your question and decide on what kind of occasions they'd even choose to dress up as each other🥰

[sunsetfilmss]

Playboy's, y'ready or not?

bts + dystopian + other idols

description: THE NEWEST dystopian novel, where various youths - from different diversions - are drawn into the domains of the game - through the haunting invitations. They grow into adolescence together, secluded in the unknown, in the epicentre of danger and daring exploits, and with the repeated battle for existence. Each has their own history and a withering future that the game holds. Stray along in-between the brutal and agonising journeys of the protagonists, as each spiral into insanity in the arena. Each to their own. Further along in the battle for survival, hidden haunting memories flood back to them, reminding them of the reason why they're in there. The games tainted them but weren't they were already tainted?

pairing: mainy maknae line, but hyung line included interactions! ( btw this is a fanfic - mainly bts - but many other idols will be mentioned. )

genre: dystopian ( e.g. hunger games, divergent, the maze runner) action-adventure, action-romance.

rating: 15- 18+ ( mainly 18+ due to the mentions of injuries or more sensitive topics!)

warnings: different warnings will be set with the different chapters!

(lil note): This is my first fanfic I guess, point out any errors - without hesitation, because it seriously annoys me. uh just going to say what everyone else says, the scenes are all made up and I've wrote this purely out of boredom , don't take anything seriously the whole idea of the book, in itself is a joke. This is only a practice book i just want to see if anyone likes my pov on books and how I write my books, hope everyone enjoys this because, I've been looking for a good, non-cringey dystopian novel, fanfic or not so I've decided to make one myself, ahhh idk if i like this but just going to risk it bc yolo.

------

Chapter 1 - The Beginning To It All

warnings: mention of blood and chapter includes a stalker-ish vibe.

THE MESSAGES and BLOODY HANDS began to arrive just a few days short from the start of summer break.

Initially, the little encrypted, hand-written messages appeared in just one location: on the window sill, dashed by brilliantly rendered handwriting, sealed securely shut, and stamped with unintelligible letters.

The night I had rendered free of all my thoughts was the night I had seen it.

The ink. The stamp from the letter was in my palm when I had focused on the contents of the letter. Way before I had the chance to realise the mess unravelling in my palm - merely seconds before I finished deciphering the letter, the searing crimson beads bled through the thin invitation itself, smearing the handwritten notes until words couldn't be deciphered, ink and blood becoming one.

That night I scrubbed, shaved my skin, peeled the intricate layers off, in attempts of rid myself free of the tainting spree of colour. Through the journey of it climbing viciously up my arms, staining its path like vines - it became a part of me. A part of us.

No matter the effort, the aftermath of the letter was untraversable, with my skin red raw and the stains not faltering, I gave up. Leaving my hands bloody.

What we didn't know was that twelve other individuals - other than ourselves, underwent the same fate. Exactly the same fate. All left tainted with crimson on their hands, to symbolise that.

-------------------------------------

+ sooo theres a little insight on the beginning to all the mess, also an insight to the book I wish many come to enjoy... + probably one of my shortest chapters.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip but it's my Thursday

Tagged by @saltymaplesyrup tagging @mareenavee ( I know you're getting space but I said I was still tagging) @thequeenofthewinter @archangelsunited @snippetsrus @gilgamish @tallmatcha @kookaburra1701 @thana-topsy @orfeolookback @caliblorn Low effort 0 expectation, I know there's a lot of chaos running around but feel free to join in if you like. I have been procrastinating on study because I'm changing my major so I am out of steam on that. So I have um...too many wips in both the art section and the writing section. We have been doing SAD WARS and that means a lot of art and a lot of writing. Like I think I wrote 30K in a month XD ART First I have the Erra render that I've been working on. He's coming along.

Some Josh about to fuck up some Reavers. IDK I kinda just wanted to draw the Dwarven toe prosthesis which will be more visible if I ever line this lol. under the cut for the rest!

Pic of Yani too idk. Okay, Writing!

Going to post 3 snips because I've been jumping around wips. First is a section from Mortal Chill

Corprus? But…how? I stood and moved to try to pull the covers off of him, I don’t know what I was really trying to do here. I could not remove them myself. I- I guess I wanted those bandages removed so that I could see for myself. The tumours, the growths that twisted and deformed the body. The broken bones the-

Maera he was so thin, was it the wasting kind? All I could remember were stories of mad creatures that would come screaming out of the southern ash wastes at night. That they had a madness, that they ate the cursed flesh of their brethren. The Urshilaku would warn us every few years of another outbreak of blight. That it had started breaching the Ghostfence.  My tribe did not much care for such things. The lore of our ancestors meant little amongst the Erabenimsun. Our Ashkhans were absolute rulers, our focus war and glory. The news of blight usually fell on deaf ears. Our Wise Woman’s warnings would often go unheeded. It was why my father had made that attempt on old Ulath-Pal’s life after all. Some sort of pact between my kin, the Ensirhaddon who bore most of the tribe’s farseers and mages and the Urshilaku and the Ilaba'andul-Sul family, who were the ruling clan of the northern wastes. It failed, and my kin were systematically executed one by one. I had fled the night my twin sister had her throat cut in her sleep. I was fifteen and utterly alone.

I had run into someone afflicted with blight somewhere around Piran. The wasting the growths. She was practically mad as she lashed out at me. I still have no idea how I had gotten away in the end. Maybe it is because I am forgetting so many things but I know that creature haunts me, Kiang.

Is this really to be my son’s fate?

You shuddered, turning to stroke our son’s cheek. Forty-six years since he was twelve. I guess I was trying to do the sum in my head, had never been good at that, resorting to counting the individual sections of my fingers instead. Three, six, twelve-

“Fifty-eight, Yani. He turned fifty-eight yesterday-I,” you let out a breath, shuddering once again, “I tried to summon you yesterday but- I don’t know why it didn’t work or-“

I couldn’t believe it, the last time I had heard your call and walked through the flames he was still a child, barely twenty-two! You reached for me, your hands on either side of my ruined face. Torn and beaten from the rubble that had entombed me. My ear missing, torn at some point. My face ripped from the razor edge of debris that I had not seen. My throat slashed to such a point that the grizzled meat was visible. It is why I cannot speak.

I was only thirty-one when I had died, barely grown myself. Maera I’ve missed so much.

The second is from Ahzidal's Descent

“Greave,” she held out her hand again, “Teldryn I need it to keep the splint in place.”

He grumbled a little as he reached out behind him, handing her the light, chitinous plate. The surface was a marbled green and beige that dully reflected the sunlight. It had something carved into its underside. Something in what looked like Dunmeris but she honestly couldn’t tell. Sydari untangled the netch leather straps and placed the chitin on top of his shin.

“Tel, I’m going to have to lift this again,” she said as she lightly prodded his shin.

“Do I have to wear it?” He groaned, scratching the back of his head, “I’m pretty sure that’s what irritated it in the first place. Thing was fine this morning.” He shrugged.

Sydari exhaled slowly. Of course, he’d blame the only thing that was supporting his leg! It couldn’t possibly be the fact that he chose to scale this dune! She lifted his leg and started securing the chitin greave to his shin, maybe a little too roughly.

“N'chow! Now I know you did that on purpose!” Teldryn protested, he began to fiddle with the leather strap of his goggles.

“You don’t think that maybe you aggravated your leg by climbing up a cliff?” Sydari pinched the bridge of her nose, “You didn’t even bother to properly brace it!”

“It was fine this morning when I took it off,” Teldryn hunched over his left knee and exhaled sharply, “Thing interferes with my prosthesis, I told you. Plus, I really felt fine this morning, Sydari.”

“You’re not supposed to be taking it off yet Teldryn,” Sydari began to search her pack again, pulling out another small vial, this one filled with a red viscous liquid that leaned violet in the sunlight. Tinged by the minuscule edition of Sleeping Tree Sap. It would dull the pain but make his comedown from the stamina tonic a lot harsher.

“What’s that?” Teldryn asked.

Sydari shook the bottle a little, “It dulls pain.”

Teldryn tilted his head, “Didn’t I just take one of those?”

Sydari shook her head, “No, this one is a bit different, stronger,” she handed him the glass vial, “Just don’t drink all of it, it contains a sedative.”

Teldryn raised an eyebrow, “What kind of sedative?”

Sydari sighed, “It’s a type of sap from this tree in Whiterun Hold, it’s um…”

Teldryn chortled, “Say no more hla’Miluth, say no more,” he raised the small bottle to his lips and took a small sip, “tastes like shit though,” he smiled and handed the mostly full vial back to her.

“You think everything does,” Sydari replied as she replaced the stopped and returned the vial to her pack.

She stood up and offered Teldryn her hand, “Come on, let's get you back to the Netch.”

“Aww come on Miluth!” Teldryn frowned, “It’s just over this ridge, we’re so close. Why go back now?”

Sydari pulled her pack over her shoulder and offered him her hand again, “Because you’re not making it up that hill, not in your wildest dreams.”

And finally a bit from Kagrumez Gauntlet

I took a few steps back, dagger still readied…just in case. The specter reached out.

“It is okay, Dumu, I mean you no harm,” there was an echo to his voice as well, as if he was both far away and far too close. I wonder if that is why he never spoke last time.

“Wha-“I stammered, I had no idea what any of this was.

He held up a hand and shook his head, “Does your Ata know you have that?”

I slowly lowered your dagger, putting it away. I shook my head at the ghost.

He sighed, “Nervyna, these places are death traps for the best of us. You cannot be messing around in here.”

I pouted, “Ata said he’d take me down here to help with his research. We were supposed to be here together but he ditched me with my cousins and came here himself,” I folded my arms, “It’s not fair!”

The ghost shook his head, his hair almost floating around him, “Oh Dumu, I am sure he had good reason. It is a new place, yes?”

I nodded, “That’s why we were going to come down here together,” I told the ghost, “then all of a sudden he decides ‘No! It’s time to go visit your cousins!’” I mimicked your gruff tone as best as I could. It made the ghost laugh.

“Ah, I think I know what is wrong, Nervyna,” the ghost smiled, “Your Ata found that down here, I do not think he wants one of these ambushing the two of you.”

I looked back at the metal mer that lay battered and broken, melted to the floor. Did he see this thing and run? I sighed, “So he saw this thing and ran away? It’s dead. Creepy but it’s dead.”

The ghost approached the broken hunk of metal and knelt over it, “Nervyna, your Ata does not run from these things. This is his doing.”

I walked over to where the ghost was kneeling, standing on the opposite side of the twisted metal mer, “how would you know that? I don’t even know who you are?”

The ghost furrowed his brow or tried to, the long scar that cut across his face seemed to make it hard, even in this form, “Nervyna, I have known your Ata for a very long time. More than he would probably care to admit. I know how he attacks these things. I have seen him do it many times. Dumu I know your Ata took down this metal mer because I do not know anyone else who can melt this kind of metal.”

I stared at the thing’s melted surface. It reminded me a little too much of how an ice mer melts during the early spring thaw. Like the ones that you would build with me whenever snow fell on the mountains to the north of the island. You hated the cold but you would take me up there every year so that we could make one. This wasn’t making any sense.

“I haven't seen Ata so much as take down a slaughterfish let alone whatever this thing is,” I stood and stomped back towards the stairs that lead further into the ruin.

“Nervyna! Wait!” the ghost called back as I descended the stairs. I replenished the light I had summoned with some of my magicka, just like you showed me. ‘Imagine you can make the light stronger with just one touch,’ I had finally started getting the hang of doing that.

The ghost reformed in front of me as I entered a colossal chamber. The whole place buzzing and whirring with that magical steam you always talked about. He frowned at me, bow gripped tightly in his ethereal fist. 

“Please do not run off like that. I can not protect you if you move too far away from me,” he cautioned, though his tone was even and calm, I could tell there was a slight hint of annoyance there.

“I never asked for your protection, ghost. I don’t even know who you are,” I grit my teeth, I never summoned any ancestor ghost. I don’t even know that spell yet!

The ghost blinked at me before sighing, “That is my fault, I forget that you do know what I look like. I am Erra, I was-“

“You’re Aya’s uncle!” I interrupted, I had heard of him before. I had heard of him a lot, in fact. You had called him by the same words that you used for Alma.

For a brief moment, I thought I saw the ghost frown. He smiled again and nodded, “Yes, that is it.”

[frozen-fountain]

13 for the writers ask!

In midst of putting this list together I almost forgot about this ask! But here I am, better late than never.

I'm not sure what I'd classify as a “must read”, and coming late with a taste for the niche to a huge and old fandom like FFVII surely means I've missed a lot of classics. So while they may not be crowd-pleasers here's a handful of thoughtful and intriguing shorter works I've really enjoyed and that are sitting, for shame, at less than fifty kudos.

Precarity by aejrogota – maybe a self-indulgent choice since I'm deeply proud to say this was inspired by one of mine, but it's also a beautifully written and insightful study of Aerith and what she represents that packs so much substance into less than a thousand words.

What's Left Behind in the Ashes by mythic_bitch_o – this is my favourite Barret-centric fic that I've found, contrasting his last years in Corel with his time on the read with Avalanche in illuminating and heartbreaking ways. It's so good and gets his character so thoroughly, I had to incorporate a few of its headcanons into my own.

White Lies by nightmarechild – a longer one here, but so very worth your time. I came for the emphasis on canon's cyberpunk elements and I was not disappointed; the descriptive writing and scene-setting here is immaculate, rendering a dirty neon phantasmagoria and infusing it with some chilling original worldbuilding elements that really immerse you in what daily life in the slums must feel like. But I'll return to this one for the intricate characterisation of Tseng and Rufus and the fraught dynamic between them – you just have to read it for yourself.

The Anatomy of Sin by MobiusStripper – a series of short pieces concerning the Jenova Project and the characters swept up in it. Through impressively sharp and considered writing, and by having one work shed new light on another, these glimpses add up to a continually evolving and expanding picture of an unfolding disaster that feels almost fated. But of course it's not. Just complicated people doing what they think they have to in order to make it through.

Mon Semblable, Mon Frere and Singin' Whiskey and Rye by Sour_Idealist – two fics centered on Sephiroth. The first is equally focused on Aerith and explores all the places the two characters complement and contrast one another, and it's worth reading just for the stunning, surrealistic swirl of the prose. The second gives us a glimpse into how his disappearance affected those who served under him, and features some of the best usage of the dreaded second person POV I've seen.

Murmurs by idk some author – Barret and Aerith have a talk I've always wanted to see them have in the aftermath of the battle with Dyne. I think it's these kinds of missing scenes that shed light on the implicit parallels between unlikely characters and invite us to imagine all the quieter moments we weren't privy to that make for my favourite fics overall.

Rotten Honey by sanctum_c – a Jenova Project-era what if that had me on the edge of my seat the whole time with the slow escalation of its unsettling atmosphere and powerful rendering of Lucrecia's unravelling psychology, and comes to a head in a brilliantly cathartic ending.

Like Paper For Wings by mellish – a short Yuffie study that examines the profound impact the loss of both her mother and her culture made on her. She's a not a character I see taken seriously as often as the others and it makes me sad, because there's so much to be done with her, so the least I can do is celebrate the authors who do take her on – and with as much elegance as is displayed here.

Scratching the Itch by mako_lies – Yuffie again, along with Elena. Another interaction I've always wanted to see in canon is the two of them attempting some sort of conversation in the aftermath of their treatment at the hands of Don Corneo, and this painful exchange says a lot with a little as they talk past one another in a quietly heartbreaking way.

I also want to mention Clarion by justira; it's a FFX fic that chronicles Braska's pilgrimage, and it's so beautifully done I feel like I never need to read another one on the matter because it'll almost inevitably fall short. It also contains probably my favourite line I've read in any fanfic, ever. I cried over “We are put on this world to dream our hardest” the day before the first JWST photos came back, and as such, I'll see those words across the deep field for the rest of my life.

I am also once again shouting out the author AsTheDeadSleep for their series in the Terraria fandom. I know nothing about the game beyond what I've read in their work, but as piece after piece of this gorgeously written and characterised slow burn tragedy come together, it becomes ever more firmly my favourite ongoing fanwork right now. If you like dark fantasy, asshole monster women, and men being weird about one another in complicated ways, I think you'd have a really good terrible time with this one.

[b0mblover]

j rants abt dead loptson as usual because he cannot be bothered to keep the thoughts to himself

ok so FIRST OF ALL

i think im gonna start just calling this ‘loptson hawaii: part ii’ BECAUSE ITS ESSENTIALLY WHAT IM MAKINGGG 😭😭

second of all, funny thing, im /planning/ on drawing lopt playing piano and mason playing violin because in hawaii part ii its the instruments i noticed specifically (i swear it makes sense) but uh.

brain rot j made a fucking omori joke and now i cannot get it out of my head 😭

the only difference is that mason is getting killed but doesnt play piano (oh ig omori spoilers but its 2024. even if you havent played it you probably already know)

uggrbfnd fuck im not even kidding i swear. those maps i made im using for this project J PLEASE QUIT DOING THIS TO ME WHY DO YOU HATE ME. THIS IS SUCH A BG ASS PROJECT. YOU CANT EVEN PROPERLY FINISH A SMALL WRITING THING. WHY DO YOU THINK YOU CAN DO THIS SHIT (talking ti myself somewheee thats not main sorry)

im sorry but uh. look. unironically, guchiry characters playing instruments have been actually rotting my mind for literally years 😭 trust me i dont even know how i dont have a list. i just associate them in my mind and remember it.

CHOKES sorry yeesh!

i actually made three maps but uh, i think only one will get used in this project (if i ever finish it that is) bc i havent even named the other two! i might just use them for idk. aesthetics in my room or smth idk.

jesus i have so many ideas i need to quit this is excalty how burn out happens but i cant help itttt

hggvfddnsn i the brainrot so much

currently (like as im writing this) im working on i uh- drawing smth rather reveling(?) like uh. it isnt -sexual- in like the slighest but is???? idk look. i really need to practice/actual/ anatomy 😭😭 it sucks bc like. man its akward as hell bc im essentially drawing lopt with no clothes on but i feel like i kinda gotta??

(i really wanna have smth to laugh at when i get older alr)

ANYWAYS the point was that i cant figure out if i should render it or just leave it at line art.

christ im rambling again fuck.

back to the topic (yes im leaving that in)

i should absolutely end masons life in the most guresome and blood curdling way possible! 😍🥰 /j

but srsly. maritime forest. you are having BLOOD on your trees 🥰 (look it up. that isnt the /name/ of it its just a descriptor)

man. these names are kinda. weird ish tho.

aphelion, periciel, vacant beach 3- (last is a joke)

ahhbrbdns but srsly naming this shit is hardddd bc following real world naming (at least acordding to google) is such a pain, like uh, (from what i remember) it usually is either a feature of the place, named after someone, and a third thing that i cannot remember rn.

(funfact, im 99% sure periciel isnt a real word! peri acordding to google means about and ciel means sky in french apparently, yea. about sky. aphelion((heres the google def bc im not explaing this))

“the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is furthest from the sun."

(SO! uh yea. if you were wondering how i came up with the names ig. oh yea funny thing. the thing about periciel. i actually looked up peri bc in puyo puyo tetris 2 (im being dead srs rn i wish i was kidding) in a call out line schezo says “parry” but i thought it was “peri” so yada yada boom. this shit is unnecessary complicated but uh. thats my entire existence! so)

man i have SO much to do. i think im gonna attempt to draw bread sheeran. well actually scratch that. i have a week to do that, i was working on uh. nonsexual lopt before i went outside and got brainrotted to death, so ill probably work on that, or start the other drawing (i really REALLY wanna draw mason playing violin. i actually dont even know that in white ball violin is the main instrument. i just think it is 😭😭) hggggbbhh well! im gonna go suffer now. thanks to like the 2 ppl that read this in full. im sorry for your eyes!

[kedreeva]

Im so fucking lucky my graphic tablets been rendered unusable by my stupid fucking laptops operating system because pretty people in skirts are one of my Top Weaknesses and i wouodve fucking considered NOT ONLY DRAWING IT but possibly attempting to fucking animate that shit (the hat throw too, becayse YES I HAVE UNFORTUNATELY READ THAT POST) and i absolutely DESPISE animating i am absolutely TERRIBLE at it

LISTEN SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LITTLE SHIT at least like,, only one of them has ever been at my actual flat,, and i only ever made or bought food or otherwise financially or materially supported like,,, half of them,, and only ever played therapist and Adult To Come To™ for like 25 of them,, they mainly just see me on the street and ask me to play with them or stay with them for a bit or whatever anyway now that i think of it depending on how lax our definition of unofficial adoption is i might have like 5 to 10 more but i dont think those count if theyre in a different country and ive completely lost any way of communicating with them,,, right,,? Actually no do Not answer that

YOU DO NOT GET TO COME IN HERE AND BRIBE ME WITH A FUCKING FIC SO I DONT FAIL MY CLASS GODDAMN IT KEDREEVA

Anyway so i know just about NOTHING about the shop except for like 5 mentioms of it in fics but i do have Thoughts on the interpersonal relationship that robin and steve appear to exhibit and i absolutely fully declare that they EMANATE platonic soulmates vibes (maybe qp even if anyones feeling generous just sayin) anyway they are so fucking stupid and they are so fucking smart and they both have one braincell but they can only use it for the other person like one of them only gets to use their braincell if its in place of the others braincell using it for said persons benefit (robin maybe gets tk use half of hers for herself the rest od the time steve only gets a quarter) anyway they strike me as both so very codependent but also very much capable of taking care of themselves but yk yk like thoughts like wheres the line between codependence and relying on another so much simply because they are so Close to you emotionally that they are kind of a part of you anyway is there even a line is there a line and like just idk mate theyre such dumbasses (esp steve) and steve is such a fucking lost puppy (part of why he end up with a full litter of pups ig)

Anyway i do not know much about hopper but i was really rooting for him in this ine fukcing fic where steves parents are being abusive shitheads and hopper gets him thr fuck outta there and him and wayne lowkey fight over custody of steve for a split second but then i found out hes a cop so i was instantly like ehhhh yk what maybe lets not put so much faith in him right away and then i was checking out that cws last night befire watching out of curiosity (NO IS TILL HAVENT SEEN ANY OF IT I GOT DISTRACTED BY AO3 AGAIN TILL 4 AM) and a commenter said that hes a bit of a dipshit to eleven at some point so like hmm mixed feelings dont know enough (ie dont know shit) abiut canon to have any opinions i could back up with aby sort of argument on him specifically

AND YES I DO KNOW WHO DMITRI IS AND I HAVE ONLY SEEN HIS NAME ONCE IN YOUR DAMNED POST KEDREEVA

I know a teeny tiny bit about the russians doing some fucked up shit at some point in the series and steve and robin getting tortured or something (because there was this scebe in this one fic where steve would constantly sneak in through the windoe and sleep eith robin in her bed after that debacle cause neither could sleep or something alomg the lines of that it was SOFT ok it was H/C OK but anyeay ive got NO clue who that fucker really is i imagine him as eithe some average stereotypically russian looking man or like fucking dartagnan but like that twink version of hik dont ask me whats going on in my brain but as i said THOUGHTS and OPINIONS™ (which i am so very unqualified to give)

ALSO I JSUT NOTICED THE FUCKING TAG YOU USED FOR THE ASKS TOU FUXK YOU FUCKER YOU MOTHERFUCKER THATS VERY SWEET YOU FUCKKING FUCKER

And apologies for the novek length ask (hope tumblr doesnt eat it cayse it usually eats any long asks i try to send) and the immense amount of misspellings but i have been outside in the cold for about 5 hours in a thin leather jacket so my fingers are kinda freezing and its also drizzling so ohone slippery

I cannot believe your computer's operating system hates me, specifically, like this. The hat throw is essential I'll have you know. Like he actually really loves the outfit except for that!! fucking!!! hat!!!

I think it's sweeeeeeet! You adopted many children because you are kind and good to them!! You are loved by small innocent beings that recognize you will help them!!

I am justified in offering any bribe I want, tyvm! It's on you if you want to accept it after doing well. I will be proud of you finishing such a big task either way!

Steve and Robin are definitely platonic soulmates! If you watch nothing else of the show, you simply MUST see the bathroom floor scene between them, you will cry over them with the rest of us. I can also advise you see the scene where they're tied up in the Russian holding room, lying on the floor confessing things to each other. Breaks my heart. I love them so much. They deserve cuddles. They DID totally get captured by Russians but I think you're missing the important part. They got captured because they were down in that base on ACCIDENT. Dustin got them into this mess, with help from Robin, and Erica. Steve was practically just along for the ride. And then the Russians CAUGHT THEM wandering around the base, and Steve took 1 look at the situation, decided that not all of them were going to make it, SOMEONE had to get caught and it sure as hell wasn't going to be His Children, so he purposely stayed behind. And when he called out to Robin, because he knew he couldn't hold the door the Russians were trying to get through by himself long enough, Robin (who you MUST understand, she is brand new, she's known Steve for like... a month, she's known Dustin for a day or two, she's known Erica for a few hours, she doesn't even KNOW about the Otherworld Shenanigans yet, as far as she knows this is just about commies in the basement) takes one look at Steve, at Dustin and Erica, and she bolts to his side knowing full well she's gonna get captured, too. But they are gonna make sure the kids don't. together.

Hopper is COMPLICATED. He's an asshole, no mincing that. He was a child soldier, or close to it, who was experimented on w/ chemical warfare bullshit that ensured his military-group companions either couldn't have kids or their kids were messed up and died as babies. Hopper fell in love and had a child, a little girl, who died when she was little (five or six-ish?), and it broke him, and him breaking also broke his relationship with his wife. Over the course of the show you get to witness that he desperately, desperately, just wants Family (and by god, who does THAT sound like) and to make sure no kids are ever harmed if he can help it. He was serving as chief of police because he didn't really know what else to do with himself, and then The Horrors happened and he realized oh fuck my mission in life is to protect El (and what that looks like varies, because what he WANTS and what he is CAPABLE of doing are separated by a canyon at times, he is a disaster of a human being but he's trying and they love each other even when they're screaming at each other) and make sure none of these dumbasses get hurt around her. And then he goes and falls in love with the mom that loves her kids more than life. Like, don't get me wrong he's still a dick. He's just also full to the brim with love. And they killed him in season 3, but he's fine now.

Dmitri, my beloved. he was the prison guard that was trying to save Hopper and help him escape the russian prison he'd ended up in due to nonsense.

I went and personally grabbed this screenshot from my own copies of the show, just so I could show you his smile upon realizing that Hopper starting a fight w/ him so they could beat the shit out of each other was actually NOT because he hates Dmitri, but so that he could grab things off the guards that separated them, so they could use those things to fight monsters with together. Oh!!! They are still friends!!!

anyway I want them to have upside down shenanigans instead of russian prison shenanigans. they deserve to fight each other and monsters. I want married couple bickering. I want them to hate each other for a while, but band together to fight off worse threats, but fall back to fighting each other after. I want... one of them to be injured and the other has to take care of them because they don't wanna be alone. "I'm the only one that can kill you, dickhead."

I'm sorry I didn't get to this sooner, I went and did responsible things like write my nanowrimo story and tend my birds and clean some stuff. But you gave me smiles all day, and I appreciate that, you are lovely <3

[thefanficmonster]

Caught Red-handed

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Struggling with migraines 

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having suffered from migraines all their life, Y/N knows better than to give them much attention or let them hinder their work too much. However, their boyfriend is a lot more worried than they are and has taken it as his personal duty to ease their pain as much as he possibly can. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to get to it, write and post it, but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it! I’ve never experienced migraines nor have I known someone who has so if I’ve misrepresented or written any misinformation, anyone who catches it, feel free to let me know either in the comments or in my inbox/messages! Love, Vy ❤

The first time I got a headache was in the middle of math class in eighth grade. I remember it so distinctly because I had never before experienced such sudden and such intense pain. I got to go home early that day and spent a good portion of the day trying to sleep it off but to no avail.

Since then I’ve grown used to having to deal with a pain so strong it renders me unable to function for a whole day about two times a month. Sometimes, I even try to be stubborn with it - I try to push through as much work as I can despite the migraine, but that never works out for a long time considering it ends up crippling me in the end. That’s never kept me from trying over and over again though!

Now, to contrast my nonchalance and even annoyance with these pesky attacks, is my boyfriend Corpse’s concern over them. I’ve tried explaining to him that I’ve grown used to them and that I try not to let them bother me and that he shouldn’t stress over them so much but I may as well be talking to a wall because all he has to do is see me squint my eyes or cringe and he enters concerned-mother mode. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it to no end, I just don’t want him worrying over something so small. Also, a minor convenience: if the migraine doesn’t hinder me from tending to my tasks, Corpse will. He’ll make sure I’m off the task I’m working and transported into bed in an instant.

That’s why I’m now clenching my jaw, struggling to maintain a poker face as I work on an important project I have to send to my boss by the start of next week. I’ve got plenty of time, but I like to stay on top of my work so it doesn’t pile on top of me, you know what I’m saying. Corpse is sitting on the couch next to me, casually glancing at me every now and then while remaining quiet as to not disturb me. So far so good, he hasn’t noticed anything and, if I didn’t know any better I would sigh in relief. There’s nothing to trigger the pain to arise any further - the lights are dim, I’m staying hydrated, and I downed two painkillers in the bathroom about an hour and a half ago - so I’m sure I’ll be in the clear at least until dinner.

“Wanna watch a movie when you’re done?“ Corpse asks, “Unless you’re tired or anything...“

I flash him a grateful smile, giving his knee a squeeze of reassurance, “I’d love to, babe. But I can’t promise that I won’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know you’ve got a tendency of doing that.” Giving me a side-glance he adds, “It’s cute.”

I roll my eyes, already sensing a blush creeping up on my cheeks and neck which I hide by turning to face my laptop screen. One thing I can’t hide though is the wide grin that’s spread across my face as I mutter: “Shut up.”

Just then, a particularly sharp jolt of pain courses through my head, testing that ability to maintain a resting face. Thankfully, Corpse is turned in the opposite direction, searching for his phone, so I allow myself a brief cringe at the discomfort. 

Guess the painkillers are dying down on me, I think to myself, a second away from sighing exasperatedly at the thought that I have to down two more. It was wishful of me to think I could enjoy the luxury of a dull ache until dinner, now the migraine is straight up mocking me.

I quietly stand up from the couch and make my way to the bathroom so I can take another dose of aspirin because I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on my work for very long if it keeps hitting me with this intensity. Opening the door to the small cabinet above the sink, I automatically reach out for the bottle of pills but stop when I see a surprise.

Directly in front of the bottle stands a note written in, you guessed it, Corpse’s handwriting.

‘Already losing effect, huh? When are you thinking of coming clean?‘

Well shoot, am I that transparent?

I sheepishly exit the bathroom, walking back into the living room where Corpse greets me with the same stance as a parent greeting their kid who’s gotten home past curfew: legs crossed, arms folded over his chest, one eyebrow raised, the whole nine yards.

“Yeah, they’re already losing effect.“ I admit, a small apologetic smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks burning with an embarrassed blush. “And I wasn’t gonna tell you at all.” I hurry to add: “Please don’t be mad though.“

Corpse shifts slightly, his gaze giving me a onceover as he contemplates how to pursue the case. I’ve already got several arguments/defenses ready - the perks of working for a lawyer - but I know he’ll dismiss all of them no matter how strong they might come off as in court. Bottom line: even statements that would fly in court can’t fly with Corpse sometimes. Especially when my health and well-being are the topic of observation.

“What have we said about lying?“ He finally asks, causing me to cringe and ball my fists in guilt.

However, I still have my arguments ready: “You never asked me so I never technically lied.” One might say I have quite the audacity to plead not guilty right now, even though I’ve been caught red-handed, but what can I say, I’m stubborn in nature. And Corpse knows this, he’s just testing me for his own amusement.

“Poor excuse, Y/N.“ He says with disapproval, shaking his head and fully embracing his disappointed parent persona. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. So, as punishment for hiding the truth from me, you are to ditch that project you’ve been bugging yourself over and come cuddle and watch a movie with me. Bonus points for you if you fall asleep.“

I needn’t be told twice - not only will it wipe that look off his features but it’ll also get earn me a movie night with the additional benefit of cuddling with my boyfriend? - how could I refuse?

I can’t help it, I just gotta push my luck here and poke the bear with a stick, “If the punishments are so sweet I might start being dishonest more often.“

Corpse rolls his eyes, scooting on the couch and tapping the space he’s freed up for me, “I said I was feeling generous, don’t bet on it happening often though.”

Alright, enough luck-pushing, I should be grateful for this generosity instead. I should be using it to the max.

So, what’s stopping you from doing just that?

Good question, brain, good question.

Head still pounding just not as intensely, I slip under the thin soft comforter to find myself not only wrapped in it but also in Corpse’s arm, his warm embrace bringing me instant comfort, walking me on the tight-rope of falling asleep right away.

“Sneaky bastard.“ I attempt to mutter, yawning halfway through. 

I feel his lips on the top of my head, placing a quick and gentle kiss in my hair before he says, “You’re welcome, babe.”

Count your lucky stars, Y/N. You’ve got one of the good ones.

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[crybabykiko]

Szn’s Creamings

Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader

Warnings: oof a lot sorry- eggnog(its delicious and you’re all just mean), corruption if you squint, clandestine sex I guess? Choking, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), nipple play, the Miya accent, improper use of Christmas decorations, bondage, unprotected sex(you should know to expect this from my writing by now), vaginal penetration, squirting, creampies/breeding, use of the word daddy like ONCE, cum eating, a dash of overstim for optimal flavor, ahegao (😌) aaaaand snowballing (aka spitting cum in someone’s mouth) swearing obviously ummmmm shit man idk anymore I’m 999% sure that’s it- good shit below da cut

Wc: 2.5k

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and a VERY Happy Holiday no matter your culture’s festivities! This is part of my collab with my lovely friends in The Sewer Server- @rat-suki ty anu for organizing it all! I’m love u. This fic was written in an eggnog & fireball induced  blackout, and is singlehandedly fueled by lust for Osamu’s Dorito body and my love for Steak n’ Shake.

Cheese-on’s Greetings Collab mlist here 🎄🎁🐁

“This... is it?” He cocked an eyebrow at the concoction, the red and green sprinkles bleeding dye into the whipped cream, the sad cherry on top sunken into it. 

“This is what you’ve been goin’ on about fer the last 3 weeks?” 

This- was an eggnog milkshake. A wintertime classic, and a staple at the local diner in your hometown. Simple enough. It didn’t look like much- in fact, it honestly wasn't. But to you, this shitty, artificially-flavored diner milkshake encompassed all the joys of holiday magic into one tall, frosted glass. You could count the years you spent in this diner, knocking them back. You’ve grown of course, but the nostalgia always stays the same. Having Osamu come to your hometown for the holidays was a pretty big step in your relationship, sure, but including him in the milkshake tradition usually reserved for your best friend? That was even bigger. 

“You haven’t even taken a sip, you ass,” you giggled, putting your own straw to your lips, reveling in the cool flavor that was coating your tongue. Pure sugar, just a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon- perfect as always. You pushed the glass over to him, urging him to try for himself. He took in a large drink, letting it rest before clicking his tongue a few times and looking over at your eyes- eyes that were aglow with anticipation and gingerbread men? No, that was just the reflection of the gaudy tinsel that adorned the booth you sat in. 

“Soooo?” 

“Not bad,” he sighed, pushing the glass back your way. Always anticlimactic. 

“But I could definitely make one that’s better.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him. 

One thing you knew he could never resist was a challenge. Grabbing his wallet, he slammed some bills on the table, whisking you away from the diner in 2 minutes flat, the milkshake an ever present memory, like that of the favorite Christmas gift from childhoods passed. You didn’t think he’d take it that seriously, but you also knew that Osamu took everything- especially food- seriously.

Even still, the drive back to your parents’ was a calm one, like every night adventure. The only difference was the bitter cold in the air, and the soft crooning of songs about Santa Claus on the radio. The only thing was- you just couldn’t stop pressing your thighs together….

“Put it away, sir.” you said jokingly, shifting your current position on the couch. Miracle on 34th Street shown on the small screen of the television as you flicked through what seemed like every Christmas movie ever made with the remote.  The feeling of his cock starting to stiffen at your back told you everything you needed to know; that Osamu wasn’t interested in whether or not Santa Claus was real, or  whatever the ‘true’ meaning of Christmas was- he was solely interested in the meaning of that which currently resided between your legs. 

A sneaky had drifted under your shirt, breath hitching in your throat as his thick fingers rolled one of your nipples, the soft tugging leaving you mewling as the sensation traveled down to your now throbbing clit. You leaned into it for a split second, but you were bought back to reality by the sight of your family’s Christmas photos on the fireplace mantle. There was no way in hell you could get fucked in front of a photo of your grandmother. You swatted Osamu’s hand away.

“We can NOT do this right now-” your words fell on deaf ears as  his hand snaked up your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth in  its wake as he settled them right above your stomach, fiddling with the drawstrings of your shorts. 

“My mom and dad are literally upstairs….” The words left your mouth faintly your body lurching toward him.

Again, you tried. A valiant attempt. It wasn’t a lie- they most certainly were upstairs, presumably fast asleep, as they had been up there for almost two hours now, leaving you and Osamu to watch a few corny Christmas movies- or so they thought. But he saw through your objections. Hearing the way your voice softened, seeing how your chest wavered as he got closer and closer to your face, he simply couldn’t contain himself. 

“It’s not my fault ‘ya wanted to stay here,” he huffed, large hands seizing your own, pushing away their protests as he passed his thumb up and down your clothed slit. You bit your lip in an effort to silence the moan that was bubbling its way up and out of your mouth. You had started to become feverish, your own state of vulnerability apparent as Osamu used one arm to pin your wrists above your head, sending your lower half flailing and bucking up into his free hand as you whimpered desperately for his touch.

“You want it, don’t ya, little love?” Little love. The one pet name you could never resist. Almost like a switch, you moaned a particularly needy, not-so-hushed “hmmhm- yes, daddy,” that definitely would have blown your cover. Luckily, Osamu’s thick fingers worked their way into your mouth to silence you, your lips immediately wrapping around them and obediently sucking to heed his words.

“Just be s’quiet as possible,” his hushed tone came out in a low baritone. He pressed a finger to his lips, pointing another up toward the ceiling from the couch of your parents living room. 

Keeping your arms restrained, your boyfriend’s free hand pushed past your layers of clothes, your saliva coated his fingers, providing just enough slickness to enter your hole with ease, gently curling against that soft spot right inside. You were so warm, so needy, easily molding into his touch as he watched your eyes widen within his. You fixed your mouth to open, but it hung there as his fingers worked, your cunt sucking  them in manically. 

“F-fuck,” you could barely manage that. “Please I-hmph- please…”

“Use yer words, little love,” he cooed, the tone of his voice was sickeningly slow as he teased you, slowing his fingers down. You bucked your hips in protest, pouting and wiggling underneath him to feel some form of friction.

“Stop Squirmin’.” His demeanor shifted immediately, darkening at your perceived disobedience. The hands that held your wrists met your throat, a half gasp escaping you as he gently squeezed, your face softening into a pout. 

“I said- use yer words.”

“Please, please fuck me,” you squeaked. “F-fill me up.”

“Then we gotta find a way t’keep ya nice n’ still. Will you be good fer me?”

You nodded. You always were. Osamu’s ability to render you a compliant, malleable toy for him to fuck was astounding. You could spend the rest of your life being his obedient little thing without a care in the world or a complaint.

“I know ya will,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “My little love’s always s’good…” 

You knew you were in for it- but you didn’t expect this. It was a little different from your normal setup, but at the same time, the rush of excitement built in the pit of your stomach just as it did the first time ‘Samu ever bound you. It just so happened that there were some discarded lights nearby the Christmas tree. You could see the glimmer of an idea in his eyes as he plugged them in, smiling as the glow lit up his face. He looked at you on the couch and wiggled his eyebrows- as much as you wanted to laugh out loud, you weren’t in the position to be picky about your rigging tonight. You had to make do. 

“It’s…. festive?” You could tell that even he was amused. But amusement aside, the desire that built between you, the stored tension of having not touched each other for almost two days now was clearly screaming to be addressed. His large hands made a bite in the wiring of the lights and they quickly found themselves around your wrists, the illumination beautiful, but also kind of blinding this close to your face. With a kiss to your lips, he moved from your wrists and down toward your torso, trailing an interesting track of holiday cheer into a harness around your chest and tying in your back. Your arms were bent forward at the elbow, snugly enough so that you could wiggle your fists, but your wrists were of no use.

 Pushing you onto your knees, you felt the press of your boyfriend’s hand against your back as he repositioned your arms and elbows to place you on all fours. Cool air immediately hit the skin of your lower half as you felt him pull your bottoms off. You wriggled your hips in an effort to help, but instead your flesh was met with an aggressive strike. Managing to catch your discomfort in your throat, a lowered hiss bared through your gritted teeth, soon followed by a sharpened inhale as you felt the presence of him towering over you. 

“Been thinking about the way those cute lips were wrapped around that straw all night,” he panted, palming his cock through his sweats. You could see how uncomfortably hard he was- it lit a fire in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t wait to serve him, you couldn’t wait to feel the weight of his thick cock against your tongue- and stretching your pussy past it’s limits.

“I bet’cher sweet mouth wrapped around my cock would look even prettier, don’t ya think?” 

His words hit at your core. Your mouth began to water in anticipation as he pulled himself out of his sweats, gently pumping before lining up at your mouth. 

Delicately, your tongue swirled down the slit of the head, plush lips wrapping around the pink bulb. Osamu’s hands guided your head down the length, drool sliding out of your mouth and down your  chin, where it dripped onto your chest, riddled with bright multicolored light. Slowly, he fucked himself with your throat, allowing you to adjust to his girth. 

“Yep,” he exhaled deeply, hissing at how warm your mouth felt around him.

 “Ev’n prettier.”

 His motions sped up as he bobbed your head up and down, the slight saltiness of his precum going down easily, leaving you practically begging for a full load.  You always craved him on your tongue- he tasted much better than any diner milkshake could. The soft gargling of his assault on your throat slowed to a stop as he pulled you off, leaving you gasping for air. Licking the drool from the corners of your lips, Osamu kissed you passionately before throwing your bound body onto the couch.

You clenched haphazardly around his cock as soon as he entered you, head flying forward with the force of his thrusts. His arm held you upright, parallel to his chest as his cock pistoned in and out of your hole. 

“‘S-sa-ah!~ ‘Samu- ffuck!” Your eyes snapped shut as he fucked into you. His breathy grunts resounded deep in your ears, sending jolts of molten lust down your spine, chest heaving as you tried keeping your voices down. Your hot, wet cunt sucked him in deeper and deeper each time he entered you- your urge to milk him for everything he had was only made more apparent by it. 

“I can feel you baby,” He purred into your ear. “So fucking wet.” 

Osamu released you from his hold, letting you fall forward into the couch, one hand pushing your head into the cushions, the other roughly kneading at the flesh where your ass and hip met, digging his nails into the flesh as he began to carnally pound into your pussy. Each stroke hit your sweet spot with a ridiculously precise skill. Your muffled sobs echoed into the cushions of the couch as he drilled you, never once slowing the rate in which his hips snapped into yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if the smacking of his skin against yours woke your parents at this rate- you couldn’t be bothered to care with your orgasm this close to the horizon. 

Somehow you managed to free a hand from your twinkling ties, immediately pushing it to your clit to rub it feverishly. The squelching started up shortly after, your ears beginning to ring as your throat squealed itself raw into the deep void beneath you. Osamu pulled you back by your hair, pressing his lips to your ear and clasping a hand to your mouth.

“Keep rubbing that pretty pussy, sweet girl, so fucking close to cumming fer me, aren’t ya?”

You could only whine in response. He softened the hand on your mouth, muffled words spilling out.

“I’m gonna cu-ah-cum! Please let me cum!” 

“Hmmm? Gonna cum? Did I hear ya right, little love?” He knew what he was doing, egging you on like this.

You were mere milliseconds away from losing it, the edge pulling up to you so close that you could barely collect yourself as you began to feel yourself slip over it- eyes whiting out as Osamu gave you the go-ahead. 

“Just let me c-” he finished your sentence for you.

“Cum.” It was a simple word, a simple command. But the way it hit your ears: the way the low growl tore through your body- you didn't stand a chance. The warm wetness of your release sprayed against his abs, trickling down your thighs and pooling into the upholstery. Your eyes crossed, face contorting further into lewd bliss as a scream tried to escape your mouth- but only silence hiccuped its way out. 

“Good fucking girl- now take this, baby. Take it all…” God, he was the devil. 

Fucking you through it- your boyfriend chased his own high, cock twitching inside as the vision of you wrapped in lights blurring into colorful stars as he spilled into you, his load coating your insides with a mass of sticky, soothing heat. You both collapsed into each other, bodies writhing as you caught your heavy breaths. 

As he slipped out of you, Osamu lifted your hips to his mouth, sucking in the mixture of his and your own release, savoring it on his tongue. Your puffy, fucked-out cunt spasmed at the contact, the sensation overwhelming as you tugged at his steely grey locks, snapping his head back. 

“Hmmph-  s’too much ‘Samu!” Your thighs clamped together as soon as he released you.

Humming a soft apology, he moved up from your lower lips to the upper ones, pushing his tongue past them, spitting arousal across your tongue. You swallowed the mixture greedily, smiling against his lips. You could still feel ropes of cum pouring from your spamming hole and leaking onto your thighs.

“Whaddaya think?” The words were slurred against the skin at the crook of your neck while he peppered your skin with kisses.

“Delicious.” You looked at him with a smirk, mind still hazy as your body shook its way through a few more aftershocks. 

“Told ya I could make a better milkshake.”

 As he said it, laughter broke out between the two of you. Your chest struggled against the harness, as it was still pretty tight. Osamu unplugged the decorations, gently untying you as snow fell outside your living room window, the faint jingling of bells filling the room again as the tv light illuminated you both. 

 Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @ukeis @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

[bittersweetmorality]

heyyyyyy uhhhhh could i get like a sub hawks fic pretty please 🙏

literally kisses u . thank u . i have been waiting for a req like this thank u bae <3333 i have been very h word for hawks </3 thank u for letting me be self indulgent

it is a little rushed towards the end i am so sorry pls forgive me anon </3

shift in dynamic (sub!hawks x fem!bodied reader)

☾ genre: smut, 18+

☾ pairing: hawks x fem!bodied reader (no pronouns explicitly specified, but hawks calls reader “mommy”)

☾ warnings: *INHAAALE* PWP, sub!hawks (obviously), oral (f!receiving), dirty talk (m!receiving), praise..... so much praise, edging, PEGHAWKS2021‼️ (pegging), slight overstim????, a leetol bit of aftercare, kind of self indulgent idk i love he </3, (HARDLY EDITED)

☾ w/c: 3k !!

you don’t know how long you’ve been teasing him, been letting yourself get into innocent but compromising positions with him.

bending over to pick up a “dropped” pen in that skirt he oh so loved to see you in, going to “change” only to come back out with your outfit being no different whatsoever except with the new addition of his favorite thigh-highs of yours.

he was so sick of your teasing, and honestly? you lost track of time from how long you had it going on.

“angel... you’re hardly being subtle, you know~” he mused from his position on the bed.

you turn and smirk at him from the doorway, “who said i was trying to be subtle in the slightest?”

you slowly began making your way to him, watching closely at the way he drank in your figure. his eyes darted back and forth from your thigh-high clad legs, to the exposed section just under your skirt, to your breasts that were straining against the provocative, tight shirt you decided to wear this evening.

you wanted to give him everything he ever dreamed of right now, to utterly indulge him-- make him believe he would be in control.

letting him sit up for you to straddle his lap, letting him dominate your kisses. anything he initiated, you complied with. his hands began softly grazing your exposed thighs, trailing upwards-- higher and higher-- you purposely let out soft whimper.

you felt a smirk tug at the corners of his lips, “hm...? you like that, angel?” you felt his hot breath in your mouth.

“yes... oh yes... please kei...” your pleas a mere whisper, “please fuck me...”

he groaned deeply in response, diving back in to taste your lips again— a hungry clash of teeth and tongue from his impatience. you could feel his arousal despite the confines of his clothes already, him grinding against your hips with no shame.

oh, you loved riling him up, especially like this. getting him to get all hot and bothered, going this far to give him a sense that he’ll be in control...

only for you to shatter your façade instantaneously, pushing him down by his shoulders and pinning his roaming hands above his head-- trapping his legs in between yours and looking down at him triumphantly.

“angel?” he sputtered, looking up at you with wide eyes, “w-what’s with the quick shift, huh?” he quickly attempted to play it off as if he still had a grip on his bearings.

a smirk splayed your features in response. you said nothing, but let your gaze flicker back and forth from his swollen lips to his dark eyes.

“w-weren’t you just begging me to fuck you a minute ago, hm?~” he said.

even when he was rendered completely immobile by you, of course he was going to give you his sly tone, his shit-eating grin as he “tried” to keep control of the situation.

oh, but you knew why he did that.

just ‘cause he knew that it would rile you up...

just ‘cause he knew that it would make you have your way with him.

“oh, i was begging you to fuck me? really...” you trailed off, moving your gaze downward, and cupping his bulge harshly with no warning. he hissed in response, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth, “sweetheart... i assure you, i’m not going to be the one who’s begging tonight.”

“y-yeah right,” he chuckled, “like i’ll believe that. just give it a few minutes, darling. you’ll realize that-- a-ah...”

you cut him off by moving your palm against him, harshly rubbing against his growing erection with no build up. the friction of your hand mixed with the rough material of his jeans sent an immense amount of stimulation right off the bat, catching him completely off guard.

“hm? speak up honey, i can’t hear you,” you leaned down and softly nibbled his ear as you whisper against him.

“f-fuck...” his eyes are now screwed shut as he revels in the friction you’re providing him, your speed ever increasing to render him unable to utter a word.

“oh, well that’s not what you said before, now is it?” you began littering kisses on his jaw, his neck, collarbone... biting occasionally, because you knew just how much he wanted to be marked by you.

you continued to rub him, keigo’s moans getting louder and higher in pitch. he was close.

already.

you giggled against him, the vibrations reverberating against his skin, “oh, you were also so sensitive, right kei? are you gonna cum?”

“y-yes...” he said, utterly breathless.

“do you wanna cum?”

he shook his head fervently.

“baby... use your words...” you gently remind.

“... no. please, not now...”

“mmm... good boy~”

his whines picked up at the pet name, his jean-clad hips beginning to grind against your palm.

you quickly ripped your hand away with a scoff, and keigo let out needy whine, the sound sending a shockwave straight to your cunt.

god, you’ve always loved his voice.

“ah-ah~” you tut, “didn’t you say you didn’t want to cum now, baby boy? do you really want to cum in your jeans like a teenage virgin?”

he shakily exhaled, “... n-no...”

“good. you’ll get what you want, i promise baby. just be patient, yeah?”

he nodded, looking up at you with tear-stained eyelashes. you took this opportunity to look him directly in the eyes while slowly lifting up your shirt to catch the hem between your teeth. he took a sharp inhale at the sight of exposed chest. you decided you would pass on wearing a bra this evening.

good choice.

“mm... kei...” you mumble breathily, snaking your arm down your torso, moving closer and closer to the hem of your panties.

“y-yes, angel?”

you shoot him a glance, taking your shirt out from between your teeth to be able to speak clearly.

“what was that?” your tone was sharp as you addressed him, leaning in close, “what’s my name?”

“m-mommy...”

“there we go, baby boy... that’s right...” your hand trails its way down once again, and you making a show of throwing your head back and sighing as it makes its descent. you begin stroking the outside of your panties, feeling the wet patch that has already seeped through the lacy material.

"kei... baby... already so wet for you..." you sigh, "now enjoy the show, yeah? don't move, baby boy... unless you-- mmm~" you couldn't help but let out a moan, your finger flicking a particularly sensitive spot on your clit as it moved in tight circles on the bud, "unless you don't want your reward..."

you spread your legs out further in your straddling position, giving him a perfect view of your panty-clad cunt. his erection was definitely painfully hard, you thought. no-- it didn't even have to be up to your imagination. you felt his cock strain against your inner thigh, letting out a soft moan at the thought.

you moved your panties to the side to dip a single finger in, sighing at the new feeling and rocking your hips. you opened your eyes to see keigo's reaction to you fucking your fingers-- right on top of him. you could feel his heartbeat from where you were seating atop him as well as his erratic breathing.

slipping your finger in and out of your cunt with ease, you decide to add a second one, beginning to scissor them both to stretch yourself out.

keigo was doing exactly as told-- following directions. only enjoying the show instead of doing anything without permission.

"m-mommy..." he squeaked out.

"yes, baby boy?"

"please... sit on my face. please, i wanna make you feel good, mommy..." his pleas were fucking adorable.

"you want me to fuck your face, sweetheart?" you muse.

"y-yes... please... please..."

"only because you asked so nicely, baby... such a good boy~"

he moans as you shift your position to finally take off your panties and throw them aside unceremoniously. you place your thighs on either side of his head, trapping his head between them and immediately feeling his hot panting breath hit your core.

“keigo, honey... you know what to say if you want to stop, right?” you look into his eyes, patiently awaiting his answer before moving forward at all.

“yes... red.” his big hands squeezed the fat of your thighs, just below your ass as he replied.

“mm... good boy~” you sigh once again, finally sinking yourself down to meet his lips. immediately, his tongue poked out and lapped at the wetness already dripping out from your cunt. he moaned against you, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure up your spine. god, it was almost like he was enjoyed having you sit on his face more than you.

almost.

you grabbed a fistful of his hair as your body fell forward from pleasure. you always knew he enjoyed having his hair tugged, but you held off on letting him have that pleasure at the moment. until he took your clit in his mouth and sucked, kneading your ass as he held you in place.

and high pitched moan was ripped from your throat, and your fingers tensing into a fist on reflex, pulling at keigo’s hair harshly. the whimper that escaped him was heavenly, his motions becoming more frantic, more needy as he ate you out. he wanted to please you.

he wanted to please you so, so bad.

you felt the coil in your stomach begin to build up, the tension making your mind hazy as the room filled with only your moans and the sounds of keigo’s sinful ministrations against your core. all of his movements now harsh, and a steady transition of his tongue lapping at your clit, and his lips sucking more and more as he knew you were close.

“f-fuck, kei... fuck... a-ah... i’m- i’m gonna cum...” you all but whisper, your voice failing you.

“cum, mommy. please. please cum for me...” he mumbled against you, giving one particularly harsh suck and before you could even process his words, you were thrown over the edge.

your vision went white as your orgasm washed over you in an impeding wave, keigo not giving you enough warning before making you cum with so much force.

“mommy?” his voice snapped you back to reality as you began to come down from your high, “are you okay? w-was i good?”

you shifted from your position to lie next to him on the mattress, looking into his eyes with nothing but pure sincerity as you replied, “baby... yes... oh my god, yes. you were so, so good...” you stroked his cheek warmly with the back of your hand, feeling your heart flutter when he leaned into your touch.

“now, i just have to return the favor now, hm? you were such a good boy for mommy, now it’s mommy’s turn to make you feel good,” you whisper in his ear, nipping at it once before unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off with ease. you were impatient, and so was he.

“tell me what you want, baby. use your words,” you instructed, stroking his cock with one finger through his boxers.

he squeaked, quickly shying away at your instructions, clearly embarrassed at what he wanted to ask of you.

“sweetheart, look at me,” you held his cheeks with your free hand to direct his gaze back to you, “tell me, i want to make you feel good, yeah?”

he bit his bottom lip.

“...p-please fuck me,” he pleaded almost inaudibly. he doubt you even heard it, and like hell he would be able to muster enough courage to say it again.

thankfully, you heard it. loud and clear.

“you want mommy to fuck your ass, baby? is that what you want?”

“...yes, please...” his cheeks burned at your lewd words. he hadn’t expected you to say it so bluntly, but it was exactly what he wanted.

you leaned down to catch his lips in a passionate kiss, one hand holding the nape of his neck while the other held his waist to draw him as near to you as possible. you wanted the kiss to show him exact how much you loved him-- how you only wanted to make him happy.

“you know exactly how to ask. my good boy~”

you reached over into your nightstand drawer, pulling out purple strap-on and lube, fixing the harness around your waist, and pulling off his briefs completely. you lubed up your fingers, rubbing them against the digits from your other hand to warm it up. you positioned yourself in between his thighs, pulling them apart to give you easy access.

“you okay, kei?” you ask.

“yes, yes... i am...” he responded, looking up at you then to your fingers, his gaze clearly impatient.

you chuckled, bringing your index finger to circle his hole gently, lubing up everything as much as possible before pushing it in, little by little.

by no means was this keigo’s first time experiencing something like this with you, however, any experience that caused him discomfort or pain was lost. you made a constant, extra effort to make sure everything was perfect for him.

when your finger entered him completely, you slowly pumped it in and out, feeling him relax around you as you continued.

“feeling okay?”

“y-yes... you can... add another,” he said.

at his word, you added your middle finger, beginning to scissor them inside him to prep him for what was to come. his gasps slowly began to turn into breathy moans at the sensation, and when you curled your fingers upward to hit his prostate, he whimpered beneath you, hips bucking up to meet your fingers. you held him down with your free hand, making sure you still had complete control.

“third?” you ask.

“yes...”

you quickly comply, adding a third and following the routine you set for the previous digits. pumping in and out, curling them at that spot that always had him uncontrollably whining from pleasure.

you continue scissoring your fingers until you believed he was prepped enough, beginning to lube up the strap that’s been settled on your hips while looking for keigo’s approval once again, “are you ready, baby?”

he nods, a faint “yes...” passing from his lips.

slowly, you push in the silicone cock inside, inch-by-inch and watching his body language with a sharp gaze. he was doing so, so well you thought, the dildo going inside with ease.

“it’s in, baby... all the way... good?” you ask once again.

“good... so good...”

you smile, experimentally letting your hips draw back and slam back into his once. the way his voice cracked, his hands looked for leverage wherever they could find it to control the amount of stimulation he felt...

you swear you were getting drunk off of him.

you begin to set a slowly, languid pace, grinding your hips into his. he bit his bottom lip, “f-faster... please... i promise i can take it...”

you wordlessly comply, placing your hands on either side of his head to get a better angle, and began slamming your hips against him erratically. his desperate moans and whines quickly picking up pace and pitch, and you vaguely pick up mumblings of “so good...”, “oh my god...”, and “so close...”

he looks down at you with a hazy expression. his cock now swollen and leaking from penetrative stimulation, but it was clearly not enough. the way he crooned and leaned into your touch every time you pulled your hips away from him-- oh, you could tell it was just painful for him.

you lightly wrapped your fingers around his cock, your hand not moving, but your cock driving into him even faster-- just to see how he would react. he hissed at the contact, thrusting his hips to create his own stimulation. you didn’t stop him, seeing how close he could make himself to cumming just by fucking your fist. he was so loud, loud moans bouncing off the walls only to be broken by his voice cracking.

“you close, baby?” you coo.

“m-mhm... oh my god.... so close...” his hips picked up speed, the sound of skin slapping against skin almost as loud as his noises now.

“cum baby, you deserve it, yeah? such a good boy...” you pet his hair as you encouraged him, moving your hand and hips to meet his thrusts to make him tip over the edge faster, reveling in the way his eyes screwed shut and his knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets beneath him.

he came with a choked moan, shaking violently as you continued to pump him as felt heavy ropes of cum glide down your hand, his stomach...

you kissed the tip, open-mouthed and wet to make him twitch again under your touch.

“how are you feeling, kei?” you whisper, petting his soft hair as you patiently, carefully slipping out of him. you untie the harness around your waist, setting it on your side table once again and lying beside him.

you waited for his heaving chest to relax and his eyes to flutter open again.

“great... fucking amazing...” he smiled at you, his breath heavy as he panted between his words.

“let me get you cleaned up, yeah? you did so good for me...” you kissed his temple, letting your lips linger on his flushed skin for a bit longer. you pulled away after several seconds, looking deep into his eyes, “i love you, keigo,”

his palm rested on your cheek as he looked back at you, “i love you more,”

he said your name with nothing but love, admiration and pure joy.

you truly were the light of his life.